Standing in Death's Shadow
by Poohbear-29
Summary: Danger comes to Four Corners while Buck and Chris are on their own.
1. Chapter 1

Title--Standing In Death's Shadow

Title--Standing In Death's Shadow

Author--Winnie

Rating--PG13

Characters--Chris, Buck, but the others are involved as well.

Disclaimer--I hold no claim to Mag 7 or the characters, but I do enjoy playing around in this fandom. No money is made, this is purely for enjoyment.

Comments--This is for Kathi's birthday….She wanted Chris H/C and I hope this fits the bill. My thanks to Marti and Antoinette for the wonderful beta job and to Pamela for the fantastic pic to accompany this story.

"The Lawrence brothers should be arriving on the stage today," Royal said, pouring two stiff belts of whiskey and handing one to his associate.

"Good, it's time Larabee and his friends paid for what they've cost us," James spat as he downed the shot of expensive whiskey.

"Well, if anyone can make them pay it's the Lawrence brothers. They got a reputation back east of taking down stronger men than Larabee's bunch."

"If they take out the so-called Magnificent Seven then the money we spent was well worth it!" James said, his tone sarcastic as he waited for the other man to refill his glass.

"First thing I do once they are taken care of is visit that old crone again and take back all those 'gifts' she gave me."

"Gave you?" James asked, smiling at the other man's choice of words.

"Well, these small ranchers…they love me. They give me gifts," Royal said, laughing at the reaction his words received from James.

"Yeah, maybe it's time they started being generous with me too…soon's those bastards are out of the way," James told him.

"Billy should be in Four Corners now and he'll ride out to meet us as soon as there's any news. Right now we'd better get the men together and get on the trail. The rest of Larabee's men should be heading back this way in the next day or two and I want to be waiting for them."

"I'm looking forward to taking that bunch down a peg or two. Show them what happens when they stick their noses into other people's business."

"You and me both, but don't forget Tanner's mine. That bastard made a fool out of me in front of my men!"

"No, problem…I've already told my men to leave him to you."

Royal smiled as he filled the two glasses once more and lifted his in a toast. "To the Magnificent Seven, may they burn in hell!"

The two men laughed as they continued to talk, making plans as they prepared to ride. There were a dozen men waiting on horseback when they exited the house and mounted up.

"Okay Boys, let's see how magnificent those bastards really are!" James said as they rode out of the yard.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Chris sat in front of the saloon, watching as Buck flirted with one of the ladies who came in on the noon stage. The man was insatiable, yet Chris knew him better than anyone else in town. Buck may be a flirt and a womanizer, but there wasn't a better man to have watching your back. Several people came in with the stage, two women and three men. None of the newcomers did anything suspicious, but the gunslinger never left anything to chance. One of the women was moving on with the stage, the other four were staying on. Wilmington was flirting with the lady who was staying in town. Chris leaned the chair back until he felt the wall of the saloon behind him and stretched his legs out until he could reach the rail.

This was his home now. A little town that once had a reputation that could've rivaled Tombstone, but that changed the day Judge Travis hired them. They'd been through a lot since then, but were still in town, still protecting the residents, whether they wanted it or not. Most of the people treated them with respect now, which was a damn site better than when the new law had come to town. Marshal Walter Bryce died because he didn't have enough respect for the west, and he'd paid the ultimate price. He died while locked in a jail cell. They knew who was behind it all now, and would soon be able to bring them to trial. Chris was looking forward to putting the two men behind the marshal's murder in the same cell where Bryce had died. He knew the five missing peacekeepers would be back from Eagle Bend the following day, and that's when the Seven would make their move. First on Guy Royal and then on Stuart James...the two men would be brought before Judge Travis and hopefully spend some time behind bars for what they'd done.

Chris smiled as he watched Wilmington work; the man could charm the honey from a hive of angry bees without missing a beat. He watched as the ladies' man tipped his hat and hurried toward him, a familiar smile on his face.

"Well, Stud, that's one mighty fine filly..."

"Buck, any woman's a fine filly to you. So, is she going to see you again?"

"Well, see, she's got to see her brother tonight to discuss business..."

"You struck out?"

"I wouldn't say that, Pard, it's more like I'm going to have to play her a little line...you know...like fishing...let them think they are getting away before reeling them in and..."

"Buck, I'd say be careful. The little fish you're trying to reel in could be a shark," Larabee said as Wilmington sat on the railing. His face grew serious as he watched the two newcomers from the stage. There was something about them he didn't trust yet he couldn't quite pin down the reason for it.

"I've been watching them two," he said softly.

"Me too, any idea who they are?"

"No, but they sure look like hired killers to me. You don't suppose Royal or James got word on what we're planning do you?"

"It's possible," Larabee answered as he watched the newcomers from under the brim of his hat.

"What time are Vin and the others coming back tomorrow?"

"Sometime between seven and eight...they know we're making the raid on Royal's place shortly after noon," the gunslinger answered.

"Gonna be a long day tomorrow."

"Yes, it is, just make sure you don't have a long night tonight," Larabee said, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"Now, Chris, you know me. Nights are my favorite time for a good..."

"Yeah, Buck, I know what nights are to you," the blond said, glad this man was back in his life once more. He frowned as he saw the two men enter Gloria Potter's store. A sneaking suspicion came over him once more and he stood up.

"What's wrong?" Wilmington asked, instantly on alert.

"I'm not sure, but the two men from the stage just went into Mrs. Potter's."

"Want to check it out?"

"I was thinking it's time I picked out a new shirt," Larabee answered.

"Sounds like a plan. Maybe I can help you out," Wilmington said and the two men walked towards the mercantile.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Harve Lawrence looked at his brother William and smiled as they entered the well-stocked general store. The sun shining through the window did little to illuminate the dim interior, but the duo weren't there to browse. They'd spotted the two men they were after and now just needed to take care of business and be on their way before the rest of the so-called 'Magnificent Seven' returned. The two brothers were from Boston and seldom came to the west, but the price for this job was well worth the trip into this Godforsaken part of the country. Guy Royal and Stuart James wanted the best and they'd sent word to Boston that top dollar would be paid if the two men could do a small job for them without raising suspicions that they were involved. Now it was just a matter of making sure the job was done and getting away before the other peacekeepers arrived.

The woman behind the counter glanced up expecting to see a friendly face, and was surprised by the elegantly clad strangers who entered. The two men were dressed exactly the same, black pants, black coats, black boots, white shirt and string tie. She shivered as she looked at identical clean-shaven faces, but kept her nervousness hidden behind a small smile.

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen. Is here something I can help you with?"

"Well now, Ma'am, that's mighty kind of you to ask. You see my brother and I are in the market for ammunition for our weapons. Do you perchance carry shells?" Harve asked, reaching for the woman's hand and smiling as she drew away.

"Yes...I do," she answered, drawing back from the man's cold touch.

"May we see them please," William asked, turning as a shadow fell across the counter. He turned to see the two newcomers and smiled as Larabee and Wilmington stood framed in the sunlight from the open doorway.

"Well, well, who have we here?" Harve asked, leaning against the counter.

"These are the town's peacekeepers," Gloria answered relieved to see the two men enter the store. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Larabee?"

"Chris is in the market for a new shirt, Mrs. Potter," Wilmington answered as Larabee moved to the side. He knew Chris didn't miss the tied down gun belts or the way the twins had lifted their jackets behind the holsters.

"We just had a new shipment come in on the stage," Gloria said, moving to help the gunslinger.

"I do believe my brother and I were attempting to make a purchase before these gentlemen arrived," Harve Lawrence warned, grabbing the woman's wrist before she could move out from behind the counter. He turned to see ice blue eyes set in an angered face and smiled charmingly.

"You'd best take your hands off her!" Wilmington warned, knowing Larabee was watching his back.

"Of course, I was merely attempting to point out that we are customers and as such deserve to be treated properly," the man explained, releasing the woman.

"You okay, Mrs. Potter?" Wilmington asked as the woman rubbed her wrist.

"I'm fine, Mr. Wilmington. Thank you," said the storeowner watching as Larabee seemed to browse through the new shirts, yet she understood the man's attention was not on the new items on display.

"Now, Mrs. Potter, would you be so kind as to show us the requested ammunition?" William asked, keeping his eyes on the black clad gunslinger. Larabee's reputation was widely known, and he was fast becoming a legend even in cities as far away as Boston.

"Mrs. Potter is holding the last box for me, isn't that right?" Larabee asked, stepping past the two men and smiling thinly at the woman.

"Why, yes, Mr. Larabee, I was just about to explain that to these gentlemen..."

"Now, Mrs. Potter, you told my brother and I that you had bullets for sale."

"I'm sorry, but I forgot I saved them for Mr. Larabee and since he is a regular customer it would not be prudent for me to sell them to strangers."

"You are a very shrewd businesswoman, Mrs. Potter, perhaps there will be other items you would willingly sell to us?" Harve Lawrence asked.

"Just tell me what you need," the woman said.

"Well, perhaps you could direct us to the undertakers. Perhaps we'll have some business for him before long."

Larabee and Wilmington didn't flinch when William Lawrence asked about the undertakers, yet they understood it was an unsubtle threat against them.

"You boys best be moving on," Larabee said, his voice soft, but filled with deadly intensity.

"Why, Mr. Larabee, surely you don't want to rob the poor man of a chance to fill his coffins...I mean coffers," Harve corrected, his hand easing toward his gun.

"The man gets enough business without strangers coming into town and giving him more!" Wilmington told them.

"Ah, yes, I believe I read about some of the business you boys have provided him with," William said, watching Larabee closely.

"Oh, yes, I read that too. Something about the streets ran red with blood as notorious gunslinger Chris Larabee... William, I do believe we are in the company of a famous man. You are the Chris Larabee referred to in Mrs. Travis' newspaper are you not?"

Chris knew these men were baiting him and turned to lean his elbows on the counter. He wanted to stop trouble before it started, but there was nothing he could do if the duo were hell bent on a fight. Right now it was verbal sparring, and he hoped it would stay that way, at least until they were outside or he could get Gloria Potter out of danger.

"You boys have me at a disadvantage. Who are you?"

"I'm Harve Lawrence and this is my brother William...perhaps you've heard of us?"

"No, can't say that I have. Buck, have you heard of the Lawrence brothers?"

"Nope...never heard tell of 'em. Are you boys s'posed to be famous?"

"Who are you?" William asked.

"Buck Wilmington..."

"Ah, Larabee's watchdog. Heard the man needed one after his family was killed. Pretty bad when a man can't take care of his own!" William spat, contempt evident in his voice, smiling as a flicker of anger crossed the black clad gunslinger's face.

"You'd better watch your mouth, Mister!" Wilmington warned his hand resting on the gun at his hip.

"Are you going to protect him from me as well?" Harve asked, grinning coldly at the two peacekeepers, before his gaze came to rest on Larabee's face. "Perhaps we should offer to buy you boys a drink...after all, once a drunk always a drunk!"

"Why you..."

"Easy, Buck, don't let them get to you. You boys best be moving on!" Larabee's features were deceptively calm as he straightened away from the counter and stood to his full height.

"We will be moving on, but first we have some business to complete," Harve told him.

"Take your business to another town," Wilmington angrily suggested.

"Perhaps Mrs. Potter does not feel as you do. You see we have money to pay for our purchases and I'm sure she could do with some extra money."

"Not from the likes of you," Gloria said, fearful of the heated exchange between the four men.

"Then perhaps we'll just take what we need and be moving on!" Harve advised, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes.

"I wouldn't try it," Larabee warned, signaling for Mrs. Potter to leave.

Gloria hurried out from behind the counter and found Wilmington protecting her with his own body as she made her way to the door.

"We take what we want, Larabee!" William warned.

"Not in this town!" the blond spat, breathing a sigh of relief when the woman was safely out the door. He saw the flicker of movement from the man on his left and reached for his own weapon as Harve and William Lawrence ducked behind the counter for cover.

"Buck, get down!" the black clad gunslinger shouted as he ducked behind the display of shirts. Several shots were fired from the counter, and Chris was quickly pinned down. He tried to find his friend, but couldn't see anything in the gloomy interior. A shot from his right told him where the rogue was, and he knew the man was unable to move either.

"You can leave now, Larabee, and we'll forget the whole thing!" Harve called.

"We'll just take what we need and go...and you can go back to wallowing in your bottle!"

"Not gonna happen...you boys might as well give up and come out of there! Judge Travis will be in town in a week and he'll be interested in hearing your story." Larabee said, quickly returning fire as several bullets ricocheted off the shelves behind him. He felt something slam into his right side, but didn't take the time to check the wound as several more shots rang out. He lifted his head above the display and caught sight of one of the Lawrence brothers drawing a bead on Wilmington. He fired the gun and smiled as the man toppled over and fell to the floor. The gunslinger dropped back down, wincing as sharp pain reminded him of the wound in his side. He emptied the spent shells and reached for the cartridges in his belt, loading the gun with shaky hands even as the crimson stain spread on his shirt.

"You bastard...you killed him!" the cry of rage came from the second man as Wilmington moved closer to the counter.

"Chris! Behind you!" the rogue said, spotting the second Lawrence brother moving toward Larabee. His own gun was empty and he ducked as a bullet hit the wall beside him.

Chris heard the commotion just as he finished reloading and turned toward the advancing man. He lifted his arm at the same time the newcomer did and twin gunshots sounded in the closed in space. Larabee's gun dropped from his hands as the force of his own bullet drove Lawrence across the counter once more. He looked down at his right arm and saw the second bloodstain spreading in a crimson tide across his shoulder.

"Chris!" Wilmington shouted when he heard the gunshots. He quickly moved forward, glanced at the two brothers and knew they were dead. Larabee's bullets were well placed and twin sets of hazel eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling. Satisfied they would cause no more trouble Buck moved toward the last place he'd seen Larabee and felt a stab of fear when he saw the pale face of his best friend.

"A...are they dead?" Larabee asked.

"Yeah...you hit 'em both. Where are you hurt?" the ladies man asked, unable to see very well in the small space between the display and the shelves behind them.

"Shoulder and s...side...damn!" he gasped as he tried to move.

"Easy, ol' son, just lie still and let me take a look," Wilmington ordered.

"O...okay," Larabee whispered, his body trembling with the onset of pain. At first there'd been nothing, but as the tension and adrenalin receded the wounds came to life.

"Chris, Buck, are you boys all right?"

"Tiny, is that you?"

"Yeah...Buck...what's going on?"

"Chris has been shot and I need you to get a few boys to help me get him to Nathan's...ah hell!"

"W...what's w...wrong?" Larabee asked, his breath coming in hitching gasps.

"Nathan's not here, Chris."

"H...he'll be back tomorrow...nothing y...you c...can do."

"Damn it. Tiny, get the undertaker to come take these two out of Mrs. Potter's store."

"Sure, Buck."

Larabee closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to dull to a more bearable level, but he knew from experience that was not going to happen for quite some time. Swallowing past the nausea and dizziness he forced heavy lids open and looked into the worried face of his long time friend. "Damn!"

"Yeah, I know...okay, Chris, me and Tiny are going to get you to Nate's clinic. You just hold on a minute, okay?"

"Not...not going any...anywhere," the blond assured him.

"Mrs. Potter, would you send a telegram to Eagle Bend. Let Nathan know Chris was shot and they need to get back here as quickly as they can?"

"Right away, Mr. Wilmington," the woman said and hurried past the gathered townspeople outside her store.

"Alright, Pard, let's get you out of here."

"O...okay," the blond whispered, crying out as the two men helped him to his feet. He held his breath as he took the first stumbling step and tried to force one foot in front of the other. Pain washed over him in waves and he fought back the bile, rising in his throat. He heard gasps from several people as they stepped out into the bright sunshine, but could not allay their worries as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. He didn't know how long it took to get to the livery, but he opened his eyes and saw the stairs in front of him. They stretched out before him, an insurmountable task that he could not perform as his legs buckled. He felt the two men lift his limp body and heard Wilmington's words of assurance.

"Easy, Chris, I got ya," the ladies' man said as he carried the injured man up the stairs and waited for Tiny to open the door. He hurried across to the bed and between him and the liveryman they eased the gunslinger onto it. "Tiny, go over to the saloon and ask Inez if she can help me here. Tell her we'll need whiskey to..."

"D...drink," Larabee rasped as he licked at dry lips.

"Sure Stud," the rogue said, smiling at his friends attempt at humor.

"Anything else?"

"Water...and bandages...and get a couple of men to patrol the town."

"Are you expecting more trouble?" Tiny asked as he watched Wilmington sit the gunslinger up and ease the black duster off his shoulders. He winced in sympathy at Larabee's muffled cry of pain.

"I don't know and I don't want to take any chances. If either Royal or James shows up I want to know right away."

"I'll see to it and be right back."

"No, Tiny, I'd rather you make sure there's no more surprises. There was a man and woman on the stage with those two. I don't know if they had anything to do with this, but I'm not taking any chances."

"All right, Buck, I'll make sure the town's safe and I'll keep an eye on them two!"

"Thanks, Tiny," the ladies' man said and heard the sound of retreating footsteps. "All right, Chris, lets get that shirt off and see what we're dealing with."

"Buck, how can I help?"

Wilmington turned to see the pretty Mexican woman enter the clinic. "That was quick...I just sent Tiny to get you."

"I heard what happened and thought you could use some help. How are you, Senor?" she asked placing a bottle of whiskey on the table beside the bed.

"F...fine..."

"You can't lie worth a damn, ol' son," Wilmington laughed.

"W...whiskey," Larabee said as the rogue helped him out of his shirt and eased him back on the bed.

"Just a little, Chris, you're still bleeding and Nate says that stuff just makes it worse!" Wilmington warned as Inez uncapped the bottle and poured a liberal shot in the glass.

Chris accepted the fiery liquid and dumped the contents into his mouth, swallowing and gasping as it hit his throat and stomach. He felt several pillows placed behind him and hissed as he lay back against them. He heard Wilmington giving orders to Inez, but kept his eyes closed in an effort to calm the nauseating pain ripping through his side and shoulder.

"Chris, I need to clean the wounds."

"I k...know...Buck...do...i...it!" the blond ordered as he forced his eyes open and looked into the worried faces above him. Gloria Potter had joined them and seemed to be working at Jackson's small stove.

"Chris, the bullet went clean through your shoulder and I think it may be broken..."

"News f...for you, B...Buck...it is," Larabee groaned as Inez cleaned the entrance wound in his right shoulder.

"Sorry, Senor," the Mexican woman apologized.

"I...it's o...okay...n...not your f...fault," the blond assured her weakly.

"Mr. Wilmington the water is ready when you need it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter," Wilmington said and filled the basin with warm water laced with carbolic acid before moving back to the bed.

"B...Buck?"

"I'm right here," the ladies' man assured him.

"Y...you s…s…said the bullet went through my sho...shoulder. W...what a...about my si...side?"

"That one's still there, Pard, but Mrs. Potter sent a message to Eagle Bend. Nathan and the others are probably already on their way home."

"H...hope so...God..."

"Easy, Chris, I just need to ease you onto your side so Inez can clean the exit wound and we can bandage it until Nathan gets here and puts in the stitches. We're gonna strap your arm to your chest so you can't…"

"He...hell," Larabee groaned as he shifted his upper body. He felt Wilmington's strong arms holding him in place as the Mexican woman cleaned the exit wound. Something stabbed at his side and he wondered what kind of damage the bullet had done.

"Almost done, Senor," Inez said as she wrapped the bandage around his upper body in order to keep movement to a minimum. She met Wilmington's worried frown and knew the next wound would be even worse for Larabee.

"Finished, Chris," the ladies' man said, easing the man back down once more.

"Thank Christ," he moaned, feeling another set of hands touching his body.

"Chris, I found Nathan's Laudanum and I think you need to take some," the rogue said, lifting the sweat soaked blond head and placing the bottle at his mouth. He poured a liberal amount past the slack lips and held his friend as he coughed dryly.

Larabee cried out as the pain in his side intensified and reached for the source of the agony. Again he felt Wilmington hold him, but could not acknowledge it as darkness reached up and he sagged against his friend.

Buck felt Larabee's body tense and suddenly go still and held him for several long minutes. He felt the blond's breath against his own body before laying him back once more. "He's out cold, Inez; we need to clean the wound in his side. Mrs. Potter, is there any more hot water?"

"Of, course, Mr. Wilmington," the woman said, watching while Wilmington got rid of the crimson colored water and brought the empty basin to the stove once more.

The next half hour was spent cleaning the wound in Larabee's right side and making sure he was comfortable. Several times during the procedure the injured man groaned, but he remained in an unconscious state. Wilmington held him while the two women wrapped strips of cloth around his midsection before gently placing him back on the pillows. There was already a flush to Larabee's pale cheeks and he knew things would only get worse until the bullet was removed.

"God, Chris, you damn well better not be planning on checking out on me."

"Mr. Wilmington. I need to get back to the store, but if there's anything you need just let me know."

"I will, Mrs. Potter, thank you for your help."

"If it wasn't for me Mr. Larabee wouldn't have been hurt," the older woman whispered.

"Now wait a minute, Ma'am, ain't no way this is your fault. Just because it happened in your store don't mean you did anything wrong. Those two were hankerin' for a fight when they got off the stage. Chris was wary of 'em as soon's he saw 'em and to be honest so was I. Those two just didn't seem the type to be moving out west."

"Buck, do you think they went after you and Chris on purpose?" Inez asked

"It sure looks that way. They seemed to know a lot about Chris and they were baiting him, but he wasn't going for it. I got a sneaking suspicion those two were hired guns..."

"But who..." the older woman asked.

"Royal and James. Seems to me those two may just know what we're planning tomorrow and maybe they wanted to make sure we were out of the way."

"They should've been sent to jail when they killed Marshal Bryce and tried to burn us out," Gloria Potter told them angrily.

"No argument here, Ma'am, but there's nothing we can do about it now, except make sure Chris is okay and when the others get back we'll finish it."

"It's about time Royal and James paid for everything they've done!" the storeowner spat.

"Yeah, well, we're hoping we can get one to testify against the other. Maybe bring them both down at the same time. Judge Travis will be here next week and he'll offer them both a deal...just wish we could find more witnesses to what happened. We've got a good shot though, especially when Royal and James find out who the witness against them is. Least it should make the judge's job easier," Wilmington said as he turned back to the injured man.

"I hope you're right," Inez said, standing and following Gloria to the door. "I need to check on things at the saloon. If you need anything, Buck, just send someone over to get me. I'll bring dinner for both of you as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Inez," Wilmington said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the unconscious gunslinger. He reached for the man's boots and pulled them from his feet and knew the tight black jeans would have to go if he wanted the blond to be comfortable. As gently as possible Buck eased the jeans down over the lean hips and buttocks and finally slid them off Larabee's legs. Next he reached for the patchwork quilt at the end of the bed. Shaking out the folded material he quickly covered Chris up to the chest with it. Sighing heavily he leaned back in the chair and pressed his fingers to his eyes. His back ached and he stretched his legs in an effort to ease the tension in his limbs.

"Jesus, Chris, I hate it when we're right," he whispered and settled in for what he knew would be a long night.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title--Standing In Death's Shadow

Standing in Death's Shadow--2

Josiah smiled as he watched Ezra Standish lift his cards and look at them briefly. There wasn't a flicker of movement or a change in the set of the gambler's features and even his eyes did nothing to betray the hand he held.

"Well, Standish, are you in or not?" Will Parker asked impatiently.

"Hmm, well, gentlemen, since I have the dubious pleasure of partaking in your ritual game of chance it would not be very sociable of me to bow out when there is so much to be won?"

"What did he say?" Ray Clarke asked.

"I believe he said he's in," Sanchez answered, watching as Ezra threw several dollars into the large pot.

"That is precisely what I said," Standish said. "I call. What do you have?"

"Say goodbye to your money, Standish...straight to the king," Parker said, reaching for the pot.

"Sir, on several occasions I have indeed lost to such a hand, but not today. Lady Luck saw fit to embrace me tonight. Full house, sevens over deuces," Standish smiled as the other man reluctantly released the pot and he reached forward and pulled it toward him.

"Well, looks like I'm done for today," Parker said, shaking his head at the run of bad luck he'd had.

"Me too," Clarke agreed and stood up. "Well, Standish, I won't say it's been a pleasure, but I admit it's been a lesson I'll never forget."

"Thank you, Mr. Clarke, I assure you the pleasure was all mine," the conman said and tucked the money into the inside pocket of his red coat.

"Yeah, I guess it was," Parker agreed and the two men left the saloon.

"You know, Ezra, you're lucky those two weren't sore losers," Sanchez told the younger man.

"Yes, I certainly agree, but I have been watching them for several days and knew their tells. It did not take much to determine when they were bluffing or when they had a winning hand," the gambler explained as Jackson and Dunne hurried toward them.

"Something's wrong," Sanchez said.

"It does look like our esteemed comrades have something important to impart," Standish said as the newcomers made it to the table.

"What's wrong?" the older man asked.

"Vin just got a telegram from Four Corners. Chris was shot," Jackson explained.

"How bad?" Sanchez enquired as they stood up and gathered their belongings.

"Not sure, but it said urgent and I want to get back there as soon as we can. Vin's at the livery seein' to the horses. So if you boys are ready I want to get movin'," the healer told them.

"Let's ride," Standish said, following the others to the door, unaware of the danger that lay ahead on the trail.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Buck watched over his friend, hating the flush of fever spotting the pale cheeks. Several people had come to check on Larabee, including Gloria Potter. He looked up from the flushed face as the door opened and Inez Recillos entered the clinic. In her hands was a tray of savory stew, hot bread, and coffee and he smiled as she set it down on the table.

"Thanks, Inez."

"You're welcome, Buck. How is he?"

"He's got a fever buildin' and I don't think it's gonna get any better until Nathan gets back and takes the bullet out. Anything going on at the saloon I should know about?"

"No, everything's quiet. Tiny's got men patrolling the town, but there's been no trouble."

"Good."

"I made some broth for Senor Chris and will bring it up shortly. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Yeah…say a prayer that Nathan and the others get back here fast," Wilmington told her.

"I will, Buck. Look the saloon will be closing soon, would you like me to come up here and help you?"

"No, Inez, thanks anyway, but folks'll talk if you're alone here with two men at night."

"Let them…I am offering to help two friends."

"Two male friends, Inez. Thanks, but I don't want anyone thinking anything bad about you. I can handle things with Chris, besides Nate and the others will be back in the morning. Stayed up a lot of nights with him after Sarah and Adam died. Sometimes I didn't sleep for two, three days when he needed me and I can do it again."

"You're a good friend, Buck Wilmington," Inez told him as she moved to pour the coffee.

"So is Chris, Inez. Me and him go back a long ways and I owe him my life more often than I'll ever be able to repay."

"I'm sure Senor Chris does not keep count, Buck. If he saved your life it was because he cares, not because he wanted you beholding to him."

"I know…and it goes both ways. Thanks for bringing dinner."

"You're welcome…eat it now, while it's hot, surely no one will talk if I sit with Senor Chris while you eat."

"All right…just keep putting the cool clothes on his head," Wilmington said, standing and stretching to ease the tension from his back. He moved to the table and sat down apologizing when his stomach rumbled announcing the hunger he didn't realize he felt.

Inez smiled as she heard the softly spoken apology and then sat in the chair the rogue had vacated. She reached for the cloth in the cool water and rung it out before placing it on Larabee's forehead. She felt the heat through the cloth as she removed the old one and knew things were only going to get worse. The bandage covering the shoulder wound was showing small signs of blood and she lifted the blanket to check the wound in the blonds' side. The once pristine white cloth was stained with blood and would need to be changed before she left.

"How does it look?" Wilmington asked.

"There's fresh blood on the bandage…"

"Damn it!" Wilmington cursed and pushed the tray away.

"Finish your dinner, Buck. It's not too bad yet and you need to stay strong for him," Inez warned and saw the man reluctantly sit back down. She watched as Larabee's eyelids flickered and knew he was waking up. She talked in soothing tones, hoping to keep the blond calm with soft words and a gentle touch.

'_Must've been some binge,'_ Chris thought as even the slightest move sent shockwaves racing through his jagged nerves. He knew he was waking up, but he wasn't sure he was ready to face whatever was causing the torment he felt. The heat rose up to meet him and he tried to push back the blankets, but soft hands pushed against him and held the covering in place. Annoyed that whoever was with him wouldn't give him the relief he sought he forced heavy eyelids upwards and tried to focus on the blurry image sitting to his right. All his fever-baked mind could make out was a vague outline of a woman with long hair.

"S…Sarah…" he whispered, reaching out with his left hand. "Hot, Sarah…s…sick."

"Sh, Senor, it's okay…you're okay," Inez soothed as she looked into glazed green eyes that were filled with pain.

"No…Sa…Sarah…" His vision began to clear and he knew he'd made a mistake. The pretty woman seated beside the bed was not his wife and he swallowed past the lump brought on by the painful memories. He recognized the man standing behind her and tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"Easy, Chris," the ladies' man said as Inez stood up and he took the chair once more. "How are you feeling?"

"Th…thirsty," the blond said hopefully.

"Inez…"

"I got it, Buck," the woman said, pouring fresh water from the pitcher on the table. She hurried back to the bed and watched as Buck eased the gunslinger's trembling body into a more upright position.

Chris held his breath, fighting back the oncoming nausea caused by the upward movement of his body. He knew Wilmington was being as gentle as he could, but the fiery agony shot through his body and threatened to send him into the burning fires of hell. He gasped, breathing through clenched teeth until he was settled on several more pillows. He heard his friend's voice, but there was no way he could answer him as his body screamed for more air than he could take in. His body trembled, his stomach churned, and his side throbbed incessantly.

"Sorry, Pard, I know that hurt," Wilmington said as he wiped away the beads of sweat glistening on Larabee's forehead.

"I…its o…okay. Just n…need to catch my b…breath."

The fever spots stood out against the gunslinger's pale skin and Buck knew things were rapidly growing worse. Again he wished Jackson was there, but right now it was up to him to keep his long time friend alive.

"You ready to try a little water?"

Larabee could see the lines of worry on the other man's face and tried to ease Wilmington's fears with his next words. "T…think so, n…not horse piss?"

"No…not horse piss. Least not yet, but I am going to see if I can't make you up one of Nathan's teas. You've got a fever, Chris, and we need to do something about it."

"H…hot," Larabee mumbled as the cup was placed to his lips. Slowly, hoping his stomach would not expel it; Chris drank several small sips of the cool liquid. All too soon he felt the nausea building and turned away.

"Chris, you need to drink…"

"I k…know, Buck, t…try la…later."

"All right," Wilmington said, hating the pain he read on the handsome face. "We're going to change the bandage on your side, Chris."

"Hell…"

"Yeah, I know, probably feels like that, but it's bleeding again and we need to clean it."

"O…okay," the blond whispered, closing his eyes as Wilmington and Recillos set things up to care for the wound. The bullet seemed to stab him each time he tried to move, but he needed to get comfortable before they started on him.

"Chris, lie still. Let me and Inez take care of you," the rogue warned as he placed a basin of water laced with carbolic acid on the table beside the bed. Taking a deep breath he sat down and looked across the bed at the pretty woman standing there. "Ready?"

"Si…you need to lift him forward so I can remove the bandages."

"Okay," Wilmington agreed. "Chris, I'm sorry, but I need…"

"I k…know, Buck…do it," the blond said, crying out as his body was once more lifted forward. He felt Wilmington's strong arms supporting his weight and remembered other times they'd been in this position. Times when one or the other had been shot, beaten, knifed, or just plain hung over and needed the care of a friend.

"Almost done, Chris," Wilmington said as small, nearly inaudible gasps escaped the gunslinger's throat.

"S…sick, Buck," Larabee managed and lost the small amount of water he'd consumed. The pain rose and soared along with each breath he took until there was nothing left but a fire burning through him. He cried out as something stabbed at his side and slipped into the welcome blanket of darkness.

Buck felt the lean body go still in his arms and held his breath as he waited for a sign that would tell him Larabee was still with them. He lost track of time, as the seconds seemed to become minutes, giving in to his own body's need for air only when he felt a small breath of air against his cheek.

'_Thank you, Lord,'_ he thought as he watched the pretty Mexican woman complete the task of re-bandaging the injured man's side. He eased the blond back on the pillows at her signal and watched as the chest rose and fell. Perspiration and fever were evident on the man as Buck rubbed his own eyes.

"Buck?"

"Yeah," the ladies' man said, looking into her eyes.

"His side is really hot and the wound has a lot of swelling. I don't know if we should wait for Senor Nathan to get back."

"There's nothing else we can do, Inez…that bullet is in deep and if I go poking around I could kill him."

"Si, Buck, that is possible, but if Nathan does not get here by morning we may not have a choice. I have seen wounds fester before…"

"So have I…"

"Then you know how quickly it can kill a man," she said.

"Yeah…yeah, I guess I do. Hell, he's been standing in death's shadow for so long I'm afraid he might just decide it's time to quit and I ain't sure I can deal with that."

"He is stronger than you think and he knows you are here," Recillos told him and gently touched his arm.

"If it comes down to it I guess I won't have a choice, but right now we've still got time and there's nothing to worry about anyway. Nathan and the boys will be back tomorrow morning at the latest," Wilmington explained and settled in to watch over his friend.

"If it has to be done, Buck, I will be here with you."

"Thanks, Inez…I'm holdin' you to that," the rogue said as she handed him a cup of hot coffee before leaving the clinic. He watched the slow rise and fall of the gunslinger's chest and thanked God every time the air was inhaled and expelled.

"I'm here, Chris, you just hang on a little longer," the rogue said softly. Putting the cup on the table he reached for a new cloth, wet it, and placed it across his friend's forehead.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

The night sky was filled with a vast array of twinkling stars, the landscape shadowed by the light cast from the large, full bodied moon that hung heavy overhead. Fourteen men rode steadily until they reached the midway point between Four Corners and Eagle Bend, taking refuge in the crevices and boulders around the narrow pass. Two of James' men were watching the trail, silent and observant as they waited for the five peacekeepers to make an appearance. The other twelve were ready, guns loaded and within reach as they rested in their hiding places.

"Someone's coming," Royal said as the sound of a shrill whistle reached his ears. Instantly on alert he waited for the second call, one whistle if it was the peacekeepers, two if it was anyone else. He glanced to his right and smiled at James. This was what they'd been waiting for. They would remain in hiding until the five men rode between them and then open fire from both sides, catching Larabee's men in a cross fire. It would end with five men dead, a town unprotected, and at the mercy of the big ranchers, preferably himself and James.

"Looks like the shows about to begin," James said as he cocked the pistol in his hand and smiled at his partner.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Title---Standing In Death's Shadow

Standing in Death's Shadow----3

Vin rode slightly ahead of the others as the moon illuminated the trail ahead. This was the spot he hated, a place where a trap could be sprung on unsuspecting riders. He turned to check on the others and knew they were all worried about Larabee's condition. Looking ahead once more he cocked his head to the side as a birdcall sounded from the darkness ahead. He waited to see if it was repeated, but heard nothing as he pulled Peso to a stop.

"What's wrong, Vin?" Sanchez asked, instantly alert for hidden dangers.

"Did ya hear that whistle?"

"Yes, thought it sounded strange…think someone's out there?" the older man inquired, searching the shadowy landscape ahead.

"Not sure, but somethin's got the night critters quiet," Tanner said as he watched for any sign of movement.

"What are we gonna do?" Dunne asked from Tanner's left.

"Think maybe ya'd best stay here while I take a look up ahead," the tracker advised.

"Mr. Tanner, we would be remiss in our sworn duties if we let you go into a dangerous situation without benefit of someone to watch your back," Standish blustered.

"Won't be ridin' inta danger, Ez. I's gonna turn off b'fore I get ta the pass…check out higher ground while ya'll wait here fer my signal."

"What signal?" the young Bostonian asked.

"Coyote," Tanner answered simply.

"Vin, be careful," Jackson warned.

The tracker nodded as he turned the horse forward once more and rode silently into the darker shadows cast by the heavy brush along the trail.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

"What the hell are they doing?" Royal asked impatiently.

"I don't know," James answered and looked at the man closest to him. "Ted, go check with Stan and find out what's going on!"

"Yes, Sir," Ted Mitchum said and hurried to do as ordered.

"Can you see anything?" Royal asked.

"Nothing's moving. If it's Tanner and the others they've either decided to spend the night out here or they know we're here."

"Damn!" Royal cursed as he watched the trail.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Vin rode silently along the edge of the trail, sticking to the shadows as he scouted the edge of the trail. He listened, ears tuned to anything out of the ordinary. He knew something was not right as an unnatural silence hung over the land. The desert was a beautiful place, but it also held deadly creatures, yet tonight there was none of the normal night sounds. Even Peso seemed on alert, ears flared back as if listening for something. He rode further off the trail and higher into the pass as he watched the trail below. Pulling Peso to a stop he shook his head as he heard whispered words from above and below. There were men hidden around him and he spotted movement behind several large rocks and strands of brush. Taking a soft breath of air he turned Peso away from the hidden men and rode back toward the spot where he'd left the others.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Royal watched as Ted Mitchum returned and took his place once more.

"Well?" James asked.

"Stan says there's at least four of 'em. They's comin' along the trail at a snails pace," Mitchum answered.

"All right…just be patient and wait for them to get here. I want those bastards taken down tonight!" Royal spat venomously.

"The men know not to do anything until they get a signal from me or you," James explained, his smile filled with contempt as he thought of the peacekeepers and what they'd cost him. Lucas had been hanged for murder as a result of their interference. Now they'd be held accountable for his death and he was going to make damn sure they wouldn't be around to mess with his plans ever again. Breathing deeply he stood rigidly waiting the arrival of five men…five dead men if he had his way.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

The four men rode slowly along, watching the trail ahead for any sign of the returning tracker. They hoped Tanner would come back with good news, but they were ready for trouble of any size, shape, or form. Four sets of eyes darted left and right as they neared the pass, waiting for the signal from the sharpshooter.

Jackson was the first to notice the shadowy figure riding towards them from the left. "Vin's back," he said softly, pulling his horse to a stop as the tracker rode up to them.

"What did you find, Vin?" Dunne asked.

"Mebbe a dozen or more men hidden in the rocks and brush."

"Did you get a good look at any of the miscreants?" Standish asked.

"No…just shadows."

"Alright, so we need a plan," Sanchez said as the moon continued its journey across the sky.

"Why don't we just skirt around them? Maybe they are not waiting for us." Standish offered.

"No…sorry, Ez, but somethin' tells me they's waitin' fer us. Saw a couple of men at the saloon in Eagle Bend who looked familiar…think I know where I saw 'em," Tanner told him.

"Where?" Dunne asked, watching for movement on either side of them.

"Royal's place…the day we rode out ta get back Nettie's stuff."

"Shit!" Jackson cursed. "If Guy Royal's been watching us, Stuart James can't be far behind."

"That's what I's thinkin'. If'n they do work fer Royal or James then ya can bet they's behind Chris gettin' shot!"

"That's a bet even I would not take," Standish said.

"Vin, what are you thinking about?" Sanchez asked.

"I'm thinkin' it's time ta turn the ambush against 'em. Make the cat become the mouse."

"That, Mr. Tanner, sounds like a perfect solution, but pray tell how do we do that against a dozen or more armed men?" the gambler asked.

"We come at them from higher ground and take 'em from b'hind. Josiah and Nate take the right…me, Ezra and JD come at 'em from the left. We wait until they get impatient and take 'em when they least expect it. I know it ain't much of a plan, but it's simple and sometimes that's the best kind," the tracker explained.

"All, right, Vin, but you boys be careful," Sanchez warned.

"Yeah, ya'd best do the same. Nate's got a job ta do when we get home," Tanner said.

"How will we know when you boys are in position?" Jackson asked.

"Listen for a coyote's call," the sharpshooter told them before the group split up.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Four Corners was eerily quiet, with merely the soft whisper of a night breeze rustling through the leaves of the surrounding trees. The fires illuminated a small portion of the street, casting flickering shadows against the buildings. The only movement was in the clinic above the livery where one man worked to keep another alive. The fever raged through the sweat soaked body that lay quiet, except for the labored sound of his breathing. During the late hours of the night Chris Larabee had fought the demons invading his dreams, but now there seemed to be no fight left in him and Buck Wilmington was afraid.

Buck ran his fingers through his hair as he watched over his long time friend. Each breath the blond took seemed to be weaker and the rogue knew the signs of infection were steadily increasing. He'd purged the bloodied pus from the wound in Larabee's right side, but until the bullet was out it seemed to be a lesson in futility. Every time he heard someone ride into town he rushed to the window hoping his prayers had been answered, only to be disappointed when it was one of the townspeople.

Buck knew it was late, the rest of the town having turned in for the night, leaving him alone in his vigil over the blond. His own body ached with exhaustion and worry, but nothing could make him leave his friend's side. So many times over their years of friendship he'd found himself in this position, watching and waiting for Larabee to win a battle. Weary and crestfallen he wondered how much more fight was left in the fevered man before him.

"Keep fighting, Pard…we need you…hell, I need you," the rogue said as he set about cooling the body down once more.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Josiah and Nathan dismounted, ground tying their horses before they began the slow trek up the hill. They stayed to the darker shadows and searched the area for signs of movement. So far they'd spotted several darker shapes against the landscape, but didn't try to take them out.

Josiah spotted a man on his left and placed a finger against his lips as he signaled to Nathan that he was going to take care of this one. He moved silently toward the unsuspecting gunman and smiled as the man turned toward him.

"Say goodnight," the ex-preacher said, using his fist to send the man into the pit of darkness. He caught the figure as he slumped and eased him to the ground as he saw Jackson pointing to something below them. He turned in the direction the other man indicated and spotted two men hidden in the shelter of a wall of rocks. Nodding his head he moved deeper into the shadows, away from prying eyes.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

JD watched as Vin scaled the steeper hill to his right, amazed at how easy the tracker made it look. His own footing was precarious at best, and several times he barely caught himself before giving away their position. He heard movement behind and to the right of him and turned to see Ezra was having the same difficulties he was. Shaking his head he turned back to the job at hand, getting to the outcropping of rocks above him. It was a position that would give him an advantage over the gang and one he hoped would afford him a good view of the area and the men hidden below them. Struggling to get one foot in front of the other, the Bostonian finally made it to the top and leaned heavily against it until his breathing returned to normal. Dunne searched the area, quickly spotting Standish a little below, and to the left of his own hideout, but there was no sign of the Texan.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Vin moved as if he'd been born to climb, his hands finding natural holes that worked to help him scale the steeper areas. It didn't take him long to make it to the lookout point and the man hidden there. Without warning he slammed the butt of his rifle into the back of the man's head and watched as he slid to the ground. He knew JD and Ezra were in position and hoped Nathan and Josiah were ready as well as he gave the signal he knew they were waiting for. Instincts told him these men were out for blood and he prayed they wouldn't shed any tonight, but he held out little hope of that happening.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

"Something's not right," Royal said as he waited for the peacekeepers to make an appearance. They'd remained quiet a long time, but there was still no sign of the five men. "They should've been here by now!"

"You think maybe they spotted something that warned them off?" James asked, shivering as the sound of a coyote sounded nearby.

"I think so…maybe we'd…Shit!" Royal cursed as a gunshot rang out from his left.

"Sonofabitch!" James snarled, realizing their plans were for naught and the element of surprise was no longer theirs. He looked toward Mitchum as the man cried out and fell to the ground clutching at his chest before lying still. Sensing movement behind him he turned and fired two quick shots into the thick brush.

Royal watched as another of his men went down and laid still. He returned fire even as shots rang out around them, but there was no answering cry of pain. Frantically, he searched the terrain, hoping to catch sight of one of the five men he knew were keeping them pinned down. A bullet kicked up dirt to his right, another ricocheted off the rock he was using for refuge and he cursed as several splinters cut deeply into his right cheek.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Nathan heard the coyote's call and continued to move toward the man below him. So far luck was with them, but that changed as his boot landed on a loose pile of stones and he lost his footing. He landed hard on his back as a bullet kicked up the dirt beside him.

"Nathan!" Sanchez silently cursed as he watched the healer go down. He moved toward the younger man and knelt beside him, returning fire as several bullets hit close by.

"I'm okay, Josiah!" Jackson assured him.

"You're not hit?" the older man asked in disbelief.

"No…I slipped," the former slave assured him sheepishly.

"Oh…that's what I'd call Devine intervention!" Sanchez said, ducking for cover and getting off a well placed shot as he heard a yelp of pain from one of the men. He took the time to look toward Jackson once more and was relieved that the other man really wasn't injured.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Standing in Death's Shadow----4

Vin lifted his mare's leg to his shoulder and sighted down on a man moving toward Ezra Standish. The kick of the weapon against his shoulder was a familiar sensation, one that gave him confidence as he fired. He knew the shot he'd made was a good one as the gambler turned toward him, the dead man lying six feet away from his position. Gunfire was more sporadic now as several of the would be ambushers were either dead or wounded. The first streaks of dawn were showing as he moved to the right and descended toward the hidden men below.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Buck knew things were getting worse for his friend as Larabee's fever continued to rage. The blond woke several times while he checked the wounds, but more often than not he languished in a fevered state. Sometimes he cried out, while other times he was quiet and withdrawn as a long forgotten memory played havoc with his senses. Right now the green eyes were open and watching him closely.

"How are you feeling?" Wilmington asked, worry and fear evident in his voice.

"'member t…the night S…Sarah t…told me she was go…going to have…have a baby?"

"Sure do…we did a lot of celebratin'," the ladies man said, smiling at the memory.

"'member how I w…was t…the n…next day?"

"Oh, hell, that bad?"

"W…worse…Buck."

"Shit, Chris, I wish there was something more I could do."

"Doing every…everything y…you can," Larabee moaned softly as the ladies man reached for the cup of herb tea.

"Need you to drink some of this."

"What is it?" The blond groaned as a wave of pain swept away his resolve to keep it from his friend. He felt sick to his stomach, yet there was nothing left inside him for his body to reject. He felt Wilmington's hand on his shoulder, but could not find the strength to acknowledge it as the agony intensified and darkness called to him.

"Damn, Chris, hang on," Wilmington pleaded and resumed his care of the injured blond.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Guy Royal cursed as another of his men was felled by a bullet from the darkness. He wasn't sure how many were dead or wounded, but he knew it was time to beat a hasty retreat. None of the five peacekeepers could prove he had a hand in the ambush and he looked at his partner in crime and knew James was thinking the same thing he was. Without a word to those that were still able to fire, Royal and James raced toward the area where they'd hidden the horses.

Stuart James could hear the gunfire behind them, but it was getting more sporadic and he wondered whether they'd underestimated the five men, or if by a small chance his men were gaining the upper hand. If that happened he would be celebrating in the Saloon while his men burned out the people of Four Corners, including the newspaper office and the jail. He silently thanked their decision to keep the horses saddled in case things went wrong and mounted up. With any luck they'd be far away by the time the gunfire stopped and maybe, just maybe, one or all of the seven would be dead.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Vin heard movement behind and to the right of him and quickly fired in that direction. A choking cry told him he'd hit his target, but he had little time to react as he was thrown backward by the force of a bullet. It struck him in the left shoulder, knocking the mare's leg out of his grip as he slid down the hill and landed hard against a rock. The pain was instantaneous and he tried to draw air in to his lungs, but succeeded in making the pain worse.

"Vin, are you hit?" Standish asked, silently cursing the stupidity of the question when he saw the telltale signs of blood on the tracker's buckskin jacket. Ignoring the man's obvious pain, Ezra grabbed him underneath the arms and dragged him behind a boulder as gunfire continued above them.

"Ez…go help 'em," the Texan ground out.

"I believe the others have everything in hand…where else are you hurt?" Standish asked.

"Hit my r…ribs," Tanner advised.

"Broken?" the conman asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a neatly folded handkerchief.

"More'n likely," the sharpshooter managed as the gambler pressed down on the shoulder wound. "Bet…better be clean."

"I have you know a gentleman does not use…"

"Cut the crap…get my gun!" Tanner ordered.

"Your gun can wait. I would be remiss in my duties…besides, Nathan would kill me if I allowed you to bleed to death," Standish said with a slight grin, turning when he heard footsteps coming toward him. His gun was instantly in his hand, but he lowered it when he recognized the man hurrying toward them.

"How bad?"

"Did you get 'em all?" Tanner asked.

"Think so…Josiah and JD are rounding up the live ones," Jackson answered.

"The bullet is still in there," Standish told him.

"No shit!" Tanner griped and stared at Jackson. "It'll keep 'til we get home…tell the others we're leavin'!"

"Vin, be still! Ezra, go see if Josiah and JD need help and bring back my saddle bags."

"He probably has some broken ribs…"

"Shut the hell up, Ez….dammit, Nate, we need ta…"

"You need to be quiet and let me take care of this," Jackson warned, his head coming up at the sound of horses galloping away at full speed.

"They's gettin' a…away!" Tanner snarled.

"Let them…we'll find out who the bastards are and go after 'em once you and Chris are back on your feet!" Jackson knew it would be daylight soon and he'd need the light to extract the bullet from Tanner's shoulder. He heard sounds from his right and looked in that direction just as Josiah and JD came into view. Both men were concentrating on keeping their three prisoners moving forward and had yet to realize one of their own had been injured in the foray.

"Nathan, got a…how bad?" Sanchez asked upon noting the pale figure lying against the boulder.

"Took one in the shoulder…Ezra said he injured his ribs, but I haven't had a chance to check…"

"He's sittin' right here!" Tanner spat.

"Are they hurt?" Jackson ignored the Texan's words and watched as Dunne and Sanchez settled their prisoners on the ground. "They hurt?"

"Nothing that can't wait!" Sanchez said and slapped one of the prisoners on the back as he passed. "Keep an eye on them, JD…shoot them if you have to!"

"Sure, Josiah," Dunne said, a feral grin plastered on his face as he shifted his gun from one man to another. "Give me an excuse!"

"Josiah, can you get a fire started…"

"No…we need to get back to t…town!" Tanner tried, but the effort to speak was taking a toll on his slowly depleting energy reserves.

"Vin, quit yappin' and let me get the bullet out! Soon's that's done I'll bind your ribs and we'll head for home. Right now we can't get you on a horse without driving a rib through your lung. I don't think Chris'd be too happy if we did that!" Jackson explained as Standish returned with the horses.

Tanner knew there was no point in arguing, but he glared at the former slave as Sanchez helped him out of his jacket and shirt. He clenched his teeth in an effort to control the pain, but was unable to stop the sharp cry that escaped once they eased him back against a saddle covered by a blanket. He knew things were about to get worse as Sanchez poured laudanum into a spoon and place it in front of his mouth. Any thoughts he might have harbored about refusing disappeared when he saw Jackson readying the items he would use to remove the bullet. He swallowed the noxious tasting liquid, grimacing in distaste as it flowed down his throat.

"All right, Son, bite down on this!" Sanchez ordered and placed a stick between the younger man's teeth as Jackson poured whiskey over the items he'd be using.

"Hold him down, Josiah! Ezra, get in here and help out!" Jackson ordered and waited for both men to position themselves on either side of the injured man. Without a word he pressed forward with the probe, seeking out the small piece of metal that could so easily kill a man.

Vin heard an unfamiliar sound and realized it was coming from deep in his own throat as Jackson pressed deeper and deeper into his ravaged flesh. The sun was brightening the sky, but all he could see was the beckoning darkness and he cried out just before giving into its call.

"Got it!" Jackson said, relieved when he pulled the bullet from Tanner's shoulder and used a bandage to press down on the wound and staunch the flow of blood. He could hear Dunne talking in dangerous tones to the prisoners and had no doubt the Bostonian would make good on his threats if either man moved.

"Nathan, will he be okay to ride a horse?" Sanchez asked.

"No, but do you think that'll stop him? He's as worried as the rest of us about Chris and we need to get moving," Jackson said as he cleaned the raw wound.

"What if I stayed with Vin while you rode on to Four Corners and sent back a wagon?"

"Not possible, Ezra," Jackson began. "I heard at least two riders head out just after Vin was shot and that means they could come back with reinforcements. We need to finish this and head out…Josiah, think you could hold Vin in front of you?"

"Just give us time to get those men tied to their saddles and we can head for home," Sanchez told him. "Come on, Ezra; let's see how well you can tie a knot!"

Nathan heard the others taking care of the prisoners, but continued to work on the Texan. He hoped the bullet hadn't done any more damage, but until the Texan was awake and able to tell him, he'd just have to immobilize the wounded shoulder until they were back in town. It took another forty minutes to get the prisoners on their horses and secure their hands to the saddle horns. One man needed to have a wound to his right thigh taken care of, but it wasn't serious.

Josiah mounted his large animal and waited for the others to hand the Texan up to him. The younger man didn't make a sound as he was settled onto the horse and wrapped in Sanchez's strong arms. The big man adjusted himself in the saddle until Tanner's head rested against his chest and nodded that he was ready to move out. They'd send a wagon for the dead, but right now the living had to take precedence.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Inez carried the tray of food and coffee up the stairs and into the clinic as the rest of the town began to stir. She'd checked on Wilmington and Larabee several times during the early morning hours, but there was no change in the gunslinger's condition, except the fever seemed to be getting worse. A pot of water stood at the back of the stove and she watched the steam billowing up before searching the room for the weary rogue.

She spotted Wilmington standing at the window, a distant look on his face that spoke of long hours without rest and wished she could ease the lines of pain she saw there. "Buck, I brought you something to eat."

"Thanks, Inez…just put it on the table."

"It tastes better when it's hot," she tried, but knew by the slump of Wilmington's shoulders that he had no interest in food. She walked to the bed and sighed worriedly when she looked upon the pale face that was bathed in perspiration.

"He's getting worse, Inez, and God help me I don't know if I can do this!"

"Surely Nathan and the others should be here soon," Recillos tried.

"I keep thinking they're coming, but they should have been here long ago," Wilmington said and made his way back to the bed as Larabee showed signs of waking. "Easy, Pard, just lie still now…no point in moving around when you don't have to."

"Buck…where…what happened?" Larabee asked, his breath coming in hitching gasps as he tried to ignore the pain that had taken up residence in his right side.

"We tangled with a couple of fancy dressed snakes," Wilmington answered.

"We win?" the blond asked hopefully.

"Yes, but I told you before about extra holes in your body. They're not healthy," Wilmington said, reaching for the basin of water and the cloth that still covered Larabee's forehead.

"Feel li…like hell…"

"I bet you do, but Nathan'll be here soon and he'll get the damn bullet out."

"Town…okay?"

"Tiny's got some of the men together and they're watching the roads. There's been no sign of Royal or James," Wilmington explained. Larabee had been given the job as leader of the seven whether he realized it or not, and this was one of the reasons. Even injured, Chris worried more about the people around him than his own health.

"Vin…Nathan…"

"They should be riding in any time, Chris, but right now I need you to drink something for me…"

"Horse pi….piss?"

"How'd you guess?" Wilmington teased and smiled when Inez handed him a cup of warm liquid. He helped Larabee drink, but all too soon the blond turned away and started coughing. The eyes spoke of the tremendous pain and Buck knew he had no choice, it was time to get the bullet out and God help him he'd have to do it. "Inez, can you ask Tiny if he'll bring some water and maybe bring me a bottle of whiskey."

"Are you going to take the bullet out?"

"I'm going to try," Wilmington said and watched her leave. He looked down at Larabee whose eyes were open and staring at him.

"Trust you…"

"I know…but I wish the hell Nate was here," the rogue told him, closing his eyes and praying he wouldn't kill the man who was more of a brother than anyone he'd ever known. He soon felt a hand on his arm and looked into Larabee's eyes once more as the gunslinger tried to find the right words.

"No matter what hap…happens, Buck, I owe you…for always standing at my s…side…thank you."

Buck felt his arm released and sighed tiredly. Larabee was family, no matter how he looked at it and right now he was faced with digging into Chris' side and possibly killing him, but the alternative was worse because Larabee was slipping away with each tick of the watch in his pocket.

"Buck, I brought the whiskey…tell me what you need me to do," Recillos told him and placed the bottle on the table.

"Pray, Inez, because without God's help I might just kill my best friend," Wilmington told her. He'd seen Jackson wash his hands before working on a patient and walked to the table, pouring the whiskey over his hands before moving to the shelves and checking the items Jackson kept there. He knew the healer kept a second set of instruments in a case and silently thanked the townspeople for chipping in on buying Jackson the items he needed. With a heavy heart, Buck turned to see Tiny enter the room, carrying a bucket of water in each hand.

"Jake and Tommy are watching the livery, Buck, but there's still no sign of Royal or James," the big man explained as he placed the buckets near the table.

"Thanks, Tiny," Wilmington said.

"Is there somethin' else I can do?"

"Yeah…I'm going to try for the bullet, but I can't do that if he's fighting me. Can you hold him down?"

"Sure, Bill's waitin' outside if we need him."

"Tell him to come on in…Chris' gonna buck like a green horse once we get started," Wilmington explained. "Inez, could you…would you stay?"

"Of course," Recillos said and began collecting the items she thought they'd need. She looked from Larabee to Wilmington, unsure which man was paler and prayed Buck had the strength to do what was needed. It took another fifteen minutes before they were ready to start and she reached for the bottle of Laudanum as Buck placed a hand on Larabee's left shoulder, somewhat surprised when the injured man opened his eyes.

"Chris, got some laudanum here," Wilmington said and fed him a liberal amount of the liquid before handing the bottle back to Inez. "This is gonna hurt, Chris, I ain't Nathan and I'm not even sure I can do this, but you're losing blood and I can't just sit by and watch…watch you…"

"Do it, Buck," Larabee said and soon felt his body held down. He nodded to the rogue, a man he'd come to depend on over the years of friendship and tried to let him know he trusted him and was willing to put his life in Buck's hands. He opened his mouth and accepted the knotted piece of material, knowing he would need something to bite down on once Wilmington started digging in his side.

Buck swallowed, painfully aware of his friend's confidence and not at all sure he could do what needed to be done. He reached for the probe, sent a silent prayer to any God willing to listen and signaled for Inez to remove the bandage. The sight of the raw, ravaged flesh made him sick to his stomach, but he refused to give in to the mounting nausea. Chris' life depended on him and there was no way in hell he would let this man down, not after they'd come through so much together.

Chris bit down hard, moaning deep in his throat when Buck pressed the probe into the wound. He could feel Tiny and another man holding him down, but fought to get away from the agonizing fire that erupted along jagged nerve endings. He silently cursed and begged Wilmington to stop, but he knew the man was doing what needed to be done. He twisted on the bed, desperately trying to draw his legs up, but they were held down as Inez wiped the perspiration from his face. He opened his eyes, praying for it to be over, knowing it was just the beginning as Buck pressed deeper. His upper body was bathed in sweat, his breath coming in hitching gasps, his mind filled with pain as he bit down harder, and heard Wilmington's voice speaking in broken tones.

"Almost there…just a little further…dammit!" Wilmington cursed as the probe slipped and he thought he'd killed Larabee when the man's body shook and then went still. "Chris!"

"Finish it, Buck, he's out cold!" Tiny explained.

Inez watched Buck closely as he searched for the illusive bullet embedded in Chris Larabee's body. The dark hair was slick with sweat and stuck to Wilmington's forehead. He seemed to be biting his bottom lip as he pressed the probe forward, pushing the gunslinger's skin into his body while searching for the item that was poisoning his friend.

Buck concentrated on the job at hand, but with each forward motion of the probe he prayed he was doing the right thing. His hands were slick with Larabee's blood, but there was none of the shaking that had been present before he'd started probing for the bullet. He knew he wasn't alone, but had no time to acknowledge the concerns and fears he knew they felt. With a silent plea, sent to whatever deity would listen, Buck pressed forward and with a triumphant cry pulled the smashed projectile from Larabee's side. Someone handed him a cloth soaked in a mixture of water and carbolic and Buck worked diligently to clean the blood from his friend's side.

Wilmington looked up as a hand was placed on his shoulder and looked into the sympathetic faces of those who'd helped him. He swallowed several times in an effort to quell the mounting nausea that rolled through his gut, but right now there was something more important than his own comfort. He had to finish bandaging the wound and hope Nathan would be back soon to stitch the bullet holes. By the time he finished with the bandages, Buck knew he couldn't hold back the bitter bile any longer and lurched outside onto the landing. Again a hand was placed on his shoulder and he turned to find Inez watching him closely and sighed tiredly when she pulled him into her arms. Exhaustion and worry fought to send the man sprawling, but with Inez's help, Buck managed to stay on his feet and nodded that he was ready to return.

"God, Inez, what if I killed him?"

"You didn't, Buck, he is alive and when the others get back they'll know you did just what you needed to do," Recillos told him, nodding to the others as they entered.

"I wish I could believe that, but until he opens his eyes and looks at me…I…" Wilmington faltered and would have fallen if Tiny hadn't caught him and eased him down on the chair next to Larabee's bed.

"You should rest," Recillos told him.

"I'll rest when Nate and the others get back," Wilmington assured her and reached for the clean basin of water the livery man brought him. Larabee's fever was climbing and the battle to save him hinged on whether he'd done the job of removing the bullet in time.

"He's 'bout ready ta collapse," Tiny whispered.

"I know, but he is too stubborn to admit it. He will not rest until the others get back," Recillos said. "Buck, why don't you let me take care of Senor Chris while you lie down…"

"I'm not leaving him, Inez," Wilmington told her.

"You won't be leaving him, Buck…you'll be right over there on the cot and I promise to wake you if he needs you."

"No…I need him to know I've got his back…I left him alone once and I won't make that mistake again," Wilmington vowed. He returned to the job of keeping his friend alive and was lost in thought while the others watched him. "You're okay, Chris, the bullet's out now and all you have to do is get better. Nate and the others'll be back before you know it…you just gotta stay strong."

"Buck, I'll bring you something to eat," Recillos offered.

"Just coffee, Inez, strong and black," Wilmington said. His hands dipped the cloth into the water and gently placed it across Larabee's forehead. He rubbed at tired eyes and realized he was alone in the clinic, alone with his best friend, one he would always stand by.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Standing in Death's Shadow----5

Josiah held the Texan in his arms, careful of the wounded arm as they rode closer to Four Corners. It would be another hour or more before they reached town, and he prayed Chris Larabee would be alive when they got there. Tanner was showing signs of waking up, and the soft moan told him he was in a lot of pain.

"How's he doing, Josiah?" Jackson asked, torn between riding ahead to check on Larabee, or staying with the riders in case something happened to the Texan.

"He's coming around," Sanchez answered.

"I should take a look at his shoulder," Jackson said.

"It'll k…keep…need ta get ta town," Tanner said, sitting forward and looking around through pain glazed eyes. "How far?"

"About another hour," Sanchez answered.

"We need ta ride fas…faster," the Texan managed.

"Not with that shoulder…you bang it around and it'll start bleedin' again and we'll have to stop," Jackson told him and watched Sanchez hand the younger man a canteen.

"Thanks," Tanner said after he drank his fill. "You could ride on ahead…"

"I could, but if you start ta bleedin'…"

"Josiah'll take care of it…we're only an hour out, Nate. Chris might not have that hour," the sharpshooter told him.

"You having one of your feelings, Vin?" Sanchez asked.

"Think so…Chris ain't doin' too good, Josiah," Tanner said, his voice edged with a mixture of pain and fear.

"Nathan, I think maybe you should go on ahead," the ex-preacher suggested. "Take Ezra or JD with you…"

"All right, but let me take a look at Vin first," the healer ordered and drew his horse to a halt.

"It's fine, Nathan…just go…"

"I'll check his shoulder…if there's a problem we'll handle it," Sanchez said. He knew of the strange connection between Larabee and Tanner and had seen the two men act when they thought the other one was in danger. They'd saved each others lives on countless occasions over the last two years and if Tanner was right, Larabee needed Jackson fast.

"All right, just take it slow and steady," Jackson said and turned to the other two men who'd been listening in on the conversation. "JD, you're with me…and bring them."

"Keep an eye out for trouble," Sanchez ordered, watching as Jackson took control of one of the prisoner's horses and JD held the reins of the other two.

"We will…just be careful and we'll see you back in town," Jackson said and spurred his horse forward, silently praying they would be in time.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Buck was beyond tired, his body ached with the need for rest, while his eyelids felt like they were weighed down, yet he refused to give in. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he cupped his face in both hands. He rubbed at his eyes and stared down at his friend, worried that no matter how hard he tried, the man seemed to be dying in front of him. The fever was sapping whatever liquid Buck managed to get inside the blond, but Wilmington was not going to quit on him now.

Buck sighed tiredly and reached for the coffee on the table and sipped the tepid liquid. Inez had brought a tray of food, but it remained untouched on the table. He knew he should eat, but right now the thought of food nauseated him, and he didn't think he had the strength to waste on puking. He looked at his hands and realized they'd been immersed in water so much they looked like prunes.

Buck stood and stretched the kinks from his back before walking to the window and opening it to allow the gentle breeze access to the stuffy clinic. He'd left the door wide open, but it had done very little to keep the heat from driving the temperature higher. He leaned on the window frame watching the road that led into town, willing the others to show up, but nothing moved except the dust kicked up by the wind. Wilmington turned back to the bed, shocked to see a pair of half mast green eyes watching him. He hurried back and poured water into a glass before helping his friend sit up and take several small sips.

"How do you feel, Chris?"

"B…bad as you l…look," Larabee answered, frowning at the haggard look on Wilmington's face. "Y…you o…okay?"

"I'm not the one with a couple of new holes in me…"

"No, but you look l…like hell…"

"Now, Pard, you know that just ain't possible," Wilmington teased lightly, growing serious when Larabee's face contorted in a mask of pain. He helped ease him onto his left side just as the water made a return journey. He unconsciously began rubbing circles on Larabee's back, relieved when the dry heaves stopped and he could return his friend to a more comfortable position.

"Sonofabitch," the blond cursed and reached for the wound in his right side, frowning when his left hand came away soaked in blood. "Buck…I can't...God…."

"Let me see, Chris," Wilmington said and cursed at the sight of blood soaking through the bandages. "Damn it…"

"Buck, Nathan's coming!" Inez called from the clinic's landing. She'd been on her way to check on both men when the sound of a horse stopped her in her tracks.

"You hear that, Chris, Nathan's here…he'll know what to do," Wilmington said, a soft hitch in his voice at the thought that real help had finally arrived. "Inez, tell Nathan to get up here…"

"I'm already here, Buck, how's he doing?" the healer asked, taking the seat vacated by Wilmington, shocked to see Larabee's eyes open and filled with pain.

"He's got one hell of a fever, Nathan, and the bullet…I had no choice…it had to come out. I did what I thought was right, but I…I…"

"Easy, Buck," Jackson said, turning to look at the man who looked like death warmed over. "Sit down now…you did good and he's alive."

"I didn't kill him," was all Wilmington managed as a cry escaped Larabee's throat. He saw the reason, and silently cursed what he'd done, praying Jackson could fix whatever mistakes he'd made.

"Buck, get me some clean water and carbolic! Did you get him to drink anything?"

"I gave him water, but he couldn't hold it down," Wilmington said and took the basin of sullied water.

Nathan knew the rogue was on the verge of collapse, but right now Chris needed help or he'd bleed out. "Chris, I'm gonna give you a shot of morphine…it'll help with the pain."

"O…okay," the blond managed. He'd heard Wilmington's words and knew his friend blamed himself for what happened, but right now Chris could not find the strength to ease the pain he'd heard. He felt Nathan tie something around his arm and turned his head to watch as the healer loaded a syringe with the morphine. Chris swallowed several times and watched the needle enter his arm at the elbow and soon felt the medication enter his system. He knew from experience it wouldn't take long for the morphine to take affect and felt Jackson's hands removing the bandages around his waist.

"Buck," Jackson called, and looked up to see Buck's near vacant stare as he held the basin in trembling hands. "Buck…Buck…"

"Sorry, what do you want me to do?"

"Sit down before you fall down!" Jackson warned and looked to see Inez standing near the doorway. "Inez, JD's putting a couple of prisoners in the jail…could you tell him I need him right away!"

"Si, Senor," Recillos said and hurried away.

Wilmington watched Jackson remove the bandages and felt as if the world around him was slipping away. He reached out and grabbed the edge of the table, barely managing to stay on his feet. The relief of having Jackson here had sapped the last of his strength and left him feeling dizzy and nauseated. He could hear the wind blowing through the clinic, but for some reason it was no longer gentle and roared through his head like a runaway locomotive.

"Nathan, Inez said…whoa…"

"Catch him, JD!" Jackson ordered, relieved when Dunne grabbed the wavering ladies' man and eased him onto the chair. "Give him a shot of whiskey!"

"I'm o…okay," Wilmington said, pushing the younger man away.

"Stay put, Buck…were you hurt?" Jackson asked.

"No…I'm fine."

"You look pretty fucked up to me," Dunne offered and held out the glass of amber liquid, surprised when Wilmington downed it and tried to get on his feet.

"Buck, I need JD over here, but he's not gonna leave you if you keep tryin' to stand up…believe me you do that and you'll be flat on your face. I doubt the ladies would find you so enticin' if you got two black eyes and a broken nose," the healer warned.

"Buck?"

"Go, JD, I'll stay put," Wilmington vowed and looked at his hands. They'd been in water so long they should have been clean, yet he could see specks of Larabee's blood around the fingernails.

"What do you need me to do, Nathan?" Dunne asked.

"There's a bleeder here…ain't for certain where it is, but we might need to cauterize the wound if'n I can't get it stopped. I need you to hold him down for me while I check the wound and get rid of the pus," Jackson told him.

Buck watched as if through a heavy layer of fog, but when Jackson pressed on the wound, Larabee's scream send dagger-like pain through his mind and he knew whatever was wrong, he was the cause. If Chris Larabee died, then he'd failed in his vow to Sarah and Adam, something he didn't think he could live with. How had things gone so bad in such a short period of time?

"Buck! Did you hear me?" Jackson called.

"What…sorry…what do you want me to do?" Wilmington asked, shaking himself out of the trance he'd been in since Jackson removed the bandages from the ravaged wound.

"I need you to talk ta him…he's awake…leastwise I think he is, but the morphine's affectin' him too," Jackson said and continued to press against the wound as a mixture of blood and pus welled up.

"Hey, Pard, you listen ta ol' Buck here and let Nate do what he does best. No need to fight anymore…nobody's going to hurt you…not while Buck's got your back," Wilmington vowed.

"Bu…Buck…where a…are they?"

"Who, Chris," Buck asked, but wasn't sure he wanted the answer right now.

"Sarah…can't find her…burning…burning up," Larabee stammered, groaning deep in his throat as Jackson pressed a cloth against his side. "T...tell her…tell her sorry…didn't m…mean ta r…run out on her and A…Adam."

"You didn't run out on them, Chris, and she'll give you hell about thinkin' that way when you see her again," Wilmington said.

"Okay, that's about all I can do for now. Buck, lift him up a little so's I can tie this off," the healer said of the strip of muslin. He knew the other man was on the verge of collapse, but he also understood Buck needed to be there, needed to know that Larabee was going to make it.

"I got you, Chris…just hold onto me," the rogue softly ordered, voice raspy with exhaustion.

"Knew I c…could c…count on y…you," Larabee whispered against the other man's shoulder. He'd heard Wilmington's voice and knew the pain would soon stop as Jackson wrapped the bandages around his waist. His breath came in hitching gulps as he was lowered back to the pillows and a cloth was washed over his face. He ground his teeth together as Jackson turned his attention to the wound in his shoulder and again purged it of infection before cleaning and bandaging it.

"All right, Chris, I'm done and as long as you stay still you're gonna be fine," Jackson said and turned to get his first real look at Wilmington. The man's eyes were rimmed in dark smudges, his face held a thick growth of beard, and his clothes looked like he'd worn them for several days straight, but it was the haunted look in the blue orbs that worried him. "You done good, Buck…"

"Did I, Nate…I could have killed him digging around like that."

"He would have died if you hadn't taken out the bullet, Buck," Jackson tried, but the look on Wilmington's face told him the other man wasn't buying it. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know…yesterday maybe…I had to stay with him, Nathan," Wilmington vowed. "I promised Sarah I'd take care of him."

"You kept that promise and then some, Buck," Dunne offered, watching as the weary man sank down on the bed and stared at Larabee. JD caught Nathan's worried gaze and wondered just what Wilmington was thinking.

"Buck, why don't you go with JD and grab something to eat…"

"I'm not hungry…you two go ahead," the ladies' man told them.

"JD, why don't you go eat and bring something back for me and Buck?" Jackson said.

"Sure, Nathan," Dunne said, glancing at his friend once more before hurrying out of the clinic.

"Where are the others?" Wilmington asked a few minutes later.

"Josiah's bringing them in. We had a run in with some of Guy Royal's men…"

"That bastard's behind this, Nathan!" the rogue snapped, standing and pacing across the clinic. "I'm bettin' he and James hired them two fancy hit men."

"Hit men?"

"Two brothers…came in on the stage. We thought somethin' was strange about them and followed them into Potter's store. They wore fancy clothes like Ezra's red coat he's so fond of, but there was somethin' cold about them. They were brothers…Chris got them both…but they hit him twice."

"Is Mrs. Potter okay?"

"She's fine," Wilmington said, reaching for a glass and pouring water into it. He downed the full glass and moved back to the bed. "Tell me I didn't kill him, Nathan…"

"Buck, you did everything you could and he's alive…that's what counts right now," Jackson told him.

"I heard you tell JD you might need to cauterize the wound…did I cut somethin' I shouldn't have?"

"If you did, Buck, it was somethin' that can be fixed. If the bleeding doesn't stop I'll cauterize the wound in the morning…you need to get some rest."

"I can't…I'm not leaving him," Wilmington vowed, turning as the door opened and Sanchez supported a semi-conscious Texan into the clinic, Ezra following on his heels.

"Put him on the cot, Josiah," Jackson ordered, his attention on the second injured man.

"Nate…how's…how's Chris?"

"He's alive, Vin," Jackson answered simply, helping the ex-preacher get Tanner's coat and shirt off. The bandage covering the shoulder wound was soaked in blood. "Ezra, get me a clean basin of water and carbolic."

"Certainly," Standish said, wondering when he'd fallen into the role of gofer. It was something new to him, but it was something he felt pride in. If the others trusted him for this then he'd proven his worth to them and that was something he actually coveted now. He wondered what his mother would say if she saw him actually participating in menial labor, but brushed those thoughts aside as he glanced around the clinic. Nathan had two injured men on his hands, yet one look at Buck told him he actually had three patients.

"Josiah, hold this here," Jackson ordered and waited for Sanchez to put pressure on the wound.

Buck could hear Nathan and the others working on Vin and prayed the Texan would make it, but right now his thoughts were on the past, on another time when he'd held vigil over an injured Chris Larabee. That was the time he'd promised Sarah he would never turn his back on her husband. Little did they know that it was only a matter of a few short weeks, that their lives would be cut short and Larabee would descend into the pits of hell.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Standing in Death's Shadow----6

Guy Royal looked around the home he'd spent so long building and silently cursed the seven men who now threatened to take it all away. He'd made it back to the ranch in record time and knew he would have to take only what he could carry. The remainder of his men had stopped him, but he'd simply ordered them to saddle a fresh horse, before brushing past them and hurrying inside. He took what money was hidden under the floorboards next to the old desk and placed it inside his saddlebag. Stuart James would be waiting for him at the crossroads and from there they would ride to Purgatory. Once there they would gather as many men as they could and attack the town of Four Corners. Once before they'd attempted to burn the buildings to the ground, but failed…this time they were going to kill anyone who got in their way and hang the seven peacekeepers. Larabee and his men would be left to rot in the sun while the town they'd sworn to protect burned to the ground.

"Mr. Royal, where are Tim and the others?"

Royal turned at the sound of his foreman's voice and realized the man was a coward in every sense of the word. When Tophat Bob Spikes had fought with Larabee, his foreman had done nothing to help and for that he would pay with his life. Royal simply reached for his gun and shot the man before throwing the saddlebags over his shoulder and hurrying outside. He looked around, not surprised that only a few men remained since most had probably been killed in the botched ambush. He mounted the horse that stood at the hitching post and raced toward the crossroads.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Stuart James knew they would need money to hire the men they'd need to overrun the town of Four Corners and finish the Larabee bunch once and for all. They'd been a thorn in his side far too long and had cost him his nephew. Lucas hadn't been the smartest boy, but he'd been his only living relative. Most of his ranch hands were dead at the hands of the peacekeepers, and things looked bad, but with enough money he could hire the cutthroats and outlaws who resided in Purgatorio. With any luck they'd be able to launch an attack before Larabee and his bunch realized the danger they were in. He grabbed what money he kept in the wall safe and hurried outside, saddling and mounting a fresh horse before heading for his meeting with Guy Royal.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Nathan finished tending to the Texan and turned his attention to Wilmington who remained seated at Larabee's bedside. He knew the man was beyond tired, but he also knew the man would not give in until Larabee was awake, and that could be hours…even days. He looked toward the table where Josiah stood and knew it was time to take matters into his hands. He knew Wilmington would be pissed, but a pissed off Wilmington was a lot better than an exhausted, worried one. He reached for the sleeping draught on the shelf near the table and saw Sanchez pour coffee into a cup.

Nathan glanced at Wilmington and knew something had to be done, or Wilmington would wind up collapsing before long. He knew from experience that these men, these friends tended to overdo things when someone they cared about was sick or injured. Right now Chris was both, and Buck was hovering like a mother hen with a single sickly chick. He handed Sanchez the packet and waited for him to mix it in the coffee and add extra sugar to hide the taste before nodding toward Wilmington.

"Buck…" Jackson noted the man's reaction when he'd called his name and the fact that Wilmington was startled told him just how on edge the man was.

"His fever's getting worse, Nathan," Wilmington looked up at the healer standing behind him and sighed tiredly. How many times had he sat vigil while Chris Larabee courted death? Would this be the day he'd be unable to stop death from taking a good man? "No way in hell," Wilmington whispered.

"Did you say something, Buck?" Sanchez asked, pressing the cup of coffee into the man's hands and watching as he took several sips before placing the cup on the table and reaching for the cloth.

"Just thinking out loud, Josiah," Wilmington said and wrung out the cloth before easing it over Larabee's forehead.

"Buck, why don't you come with me and we'll grab something to eat?" Sanchez suggested, but the set of Wilmington's shoulders told him the man wasn't leaving.

"I'm not hungry, Josiah, but you and Nate go ahead…I'll watch Chris and Vin," the rogue assured them before placing the cloth back in the water and repeating his earlier motions.

"All right, Son, but we'll bring something back for you," Sanchez lifted the cup of coffee and again placed it in Wilmington's left hand. "Chicken or beef?"

"Anything's fine," Wilmington answered softly, leaning forward with elbows on his knees as he drank from the cup.

Josiah led Nathan out onto the deck and looked out over the darkening streets, but left the door to the clinic open so they could listen for any trouble.

"Nathan, he's going to be pissed when he wakes up," Sanchez said.

"I'll deal with him being pissed…right now I just don't want him collapsing because he ain't takin' care of himself," Jackson said and leaned against the railing. "Look, I don't want to leave right now so bring me back somethin'."

"Sure, but I'm going to check with JD and make sure the prisoners aren't causing any problems," Sanchez said.

"Tell 'im to tell them one of his jokes…that'll make 'em shut up pretty quick," Jackson told him before moving back into the clinic. Wilmington hadn't moved, except to place the empty cup on the floor beside him. His hand reached for the cloth, but he seemed to be having trouble latching onto it. Knowing Wilmington wouldn't be awake much longer; Nathan quickly fixed up his bedroll at the end of the bed and grabbed a pillow.

Buck licked at dry lips and blinked his eyes several times when his vision blurred. He coughed, and looked at the cup and wondered why he felt as if he was asleep on his feet. He heard movement behind him and turned to find Nathan watching him closely. "I…I smell a skunk…"

"No, you smell like a skunk…how long since you took a bath?" Jackson asked, hoping to deflect the man's attention. Even drugged up with a sleeping aid, Buck was a formidable man, one whose eyes were burning with blue fire as he stood up and grabbed the end of the bed.

"Nate…"

"Come on, Buck, lay down before you fall down," Jackson ordered and took the rogue's arm to steady him.

"Please, Nate, I can't leave him…not now…not while he's standing…standing in death's shadow," Wilmington told him, eyes closing even as he fought to stay on his feet.

"I won't let death or anyone else take him, Buck, but you need to lie down and rest if you're gonna be able to help me with him," Jackson said and eased the man down on the bedroll. He reached for a quilt and quickly covered the weary man, as Wilmington latched onto his arm.

"Give me y…your word, Nathan…give me your word you won't let any…anything happen to him."

"I'm going to do everything I can to keep him with us, Buck, now close those eyes and rest," Jackson said, relieved when the fingers relaxed and Wilmington's soft snores told him the man was finally sleeping. Nathan stood up and moved to the bed, worried that Larabee's fever continued to rise. He lifted the blanket and checked the bandages, praying there would be no new bleeding.

"Nate?"

"I'm here, Vin," Jackson said and moved to the cot. He reached for the pitcher of water and quickly poured a small amount into a cup before handing it to the injured man who drank greedily.

Tanner had been half asleep when Jackson and Sanchez mixed the sleeping draught for Wilmington, yet he understood the reason behind it. Wilmington and Larabee had been friends for so long that they knew instinctively when the other one needed him. Right now Buck needed Chris to live for several reasons, one of which was that Buck blamed himself for Chris being in the shape he was in. His gaze shifted to the bed where Larabee lay, bathed in sweat that spoke of a high fever.

"He's strong, Vin," Jackson offered, but something in Tanner's eyes told him he understood just how bad things were where their leader was concerned.

"Thanks, Nathan…did I hear ya say ya might need ta cauterize the wound?"

"If it keeps bleedin' I ain't gonna have no other choice, Vin," Jackson told him.

"Ya'll need help ta hold 'im down," the Texan said.

"I'll have it…I ain't doin' it just yet, but you won't be no good with that bum arm so don't'cha go getting' no ideas about getting outta that bed."

"Nate, what 'bout the town?"

"What about it?"

"Royal and James ain't the type ta go off an' lick their wounds like some mangy dawg…they's gonna come back," Tanner told him.

"Yeah, I was thinkin' the same thing…"

"Thinking what, Nathan?" Sanchez asked upon entering the clinic, JD and Ezra following quickly behind.

"That Royal and James are a danger ta the town," Jackson answered.

"It appears we are all on the same page where those miscreants are concerned. JD and I spoke with several members of the town and have set up a watch at both ends of the street. They will warn us should the danger manifest itself while we are indisposed," Standish explained.

"What'd he say?" Tanner asked.

"The town's pitching in to watch out for Royal and James," Dunne answered, frowning when he spotted the ladies' man. "Is Buck okay?"

"He will be as long as he gets the sleep he needs," Jackson answered.

"How is our esteemed leader?" Standish asked, moving to the bed and reaching for the cloth soaking in the water.

"He's burnin' up…might have ta cauterize the wound," the healer answered.

"When will you know?" Sanchez asked.

"It depends on whether the wound keeps bleeding…I'll check in a couple of hours and make a decision then," Jackson told them.

"Then I guess you'd better eat and get some rest, Nate, the rest of us can look after our fallen brothers," Sanchez offered and motioned to the tray of food he'd brought from the saloon.

"Did the prisoners tell ya anythin'?" Tanner asked.

"Not much, but they do work for Guy Royal," Dunne answered, moving to check for himself that Wilmington was okay.

"We figured that, but did they say whether James was working with Royal?" Jackson asked before biting into the thick roast beef sandwich.

"They did, but they don't have any idea where Royal and James went," Sanchez told them. "Ezra sent a wire to Travis and we'll need to check out James and Royal's places."

"I don't think we should be sending anyone out there until we're sure the town's safe," Standish offered, gently easing the cloth over Larabee's face. He knew the others were watching him, but right now it didn't matter that he was showing a side of himself that was usually kept hidden. Chris Larabee was a friend whether he realized it or not and Ezra could not stand by and do nothing when it was a simple thing to wash away the sweat that beaded on the man's brow.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Guy Royal and Stuart James rode in silence most of the way, speaking only about the imminent death of the seven men who'd wrecked their lives. The town of Purgatorio was ripe with the criminal element and that's exactly what they needed if they were going to cleanse the town of the seven men who dared interfere with their plans. They rode through the night and entered the outlaw town just as dawn began to brighten the horizon.

Purgatorio had quickly garnered the reputation of being a home for anyone who had gone against the law. There was no sheriff or marshal or anyone else with a badge in the town. The last man who dared to try and bring law to Purgatorio still hung from a tree at the south end of town, a reminder that the people who lived here liked things just the way they were. The sun and animals had done a job on the body, but no one had ventured near it, and the identity of the drying husk no longer mattered. He was simply a warning that the town was lawless and was going to stay that way.

As with most outlaw towns, the saloons and hotels were already lively and probably had been all night. Royal pulled his horse to a stop as a body was thrown through the windows of a saloon and landed directly in his path. He smiled and glanced at his riding companion. "Looks like we came to the right place."

"Better keep the money hidden," James whispered, ducking as a bottle flew too close to his head. Royal had money hidden in both boots and that's where it would stay until after Four Corners paid dearly for hiring the peacekeepers. "Rough place."

"Don't tell me this is your first time in Purgatorio?"

"No, but it's been a spell since the last time. It was easier just to go visit Wickes and that's another reason them bastards need to die. Wickes' place was so much easier and a lot safer than this place," James told him.

"I know what you mean," Royal agreed and dismounted in front of the noisiest saloon. The two men tossed their reins over the hitching post and walked through the batwing doors. The interior was filled with smoke and the smell of alcohol and sweat would have made an upstanding woman faint, but it had no effect on the loose women who flaunted themselves for the outlaws.

"Now what's a good lookin' fella like you doin' in here?"

Royal looked at the plain woman whose unwashed hair hung below her shoulders, and pushed her away in disgust. Wickes' whores were clean and dressed seductively, while in Purgatorio it seemed there was no reason to put on airs. The woman had already moved on to another man and it looked as if he was going to take her up on her offer, whatever it was. He pointed to an empty table near the back and moved through the saloon until they reached their destination.

"So how do you want to play this?" James asked, watching as a woman approached and stood before them.

"What can I get you?"

"Whiskey…the best in the house and bring the bottle," Royal ordered.

"Big celebration?" the woman asked.

"It might be if we can hire a few men to take down the Magnificent Seven," Royal told her and instantly several men turned in their direction. Jock Steel's novel had made its rounds and the reputation of Larabee and his men was quickly becoming well known. The nickname Steel had given them had stuck, and it was obvious Larabee's gang had made enemies.

"How much are you payin'?" A big man with a scar down his right cheek asked.

"Twenty dollars up front and twenty more to anyone who survives to collect it," Royal told them, smiling when it appeared he'd made an offer these men couldn't afford to turn down.

"I'm in," scar face told them and sat down just as the woman returned with the whiskey and several glasses. "Hell of it is I would've gladly done it for nothin'. I owe those men for killing a friend of mine."

"You never had any friends, Curly," another man said and there was a hint of a smile on the big man's face.

"That's beside the point…I know they killed someone I knew and that's reason enough ta hate the bastards."

Within an hour two dozen men had signed up to help James and Royal take out the Magnificent Seven. Plans were made that they would ride in two days, and that the town of Four Corners would be burned to the ground while seven bodies hung in the sun as a warning to others.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Standing in Death's Shadow----7

Chris knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd died and gone straight to hell. There was no other explanation that fit his current circumstances. He was sure he was being burned alive and the pain running rampant along his body would not allow him to rest. Something brushed against his side and his eyes shot open as a raspy cry escaped his parched throat.

"Hold on, Chris, I need to take a look…"

There were other words said, but for Chris Larabee they weren't making any sense. All he knew was the heat, the searing fire that scorched his body and invaded his mind. Very little made sense to him and he fought to open his eyes, but there didn't seem to be any energy left inside him. Another voice invaded his nightmarish world, but the one constant, the one he needed to hear, was nowhere to be found.

'_Buck,'_ he thought he called the name aloud, but the only sound outside the voices was a rasping wheeze that he did not recognize. Using every ounce of strength he could garner, Chris forced his eyelids open to a mere slit and tried to bring his surroundings into focus. Hands reached for him, held his upper and lower body down as again something brushed against his side and several words reached his confused mind.

"No choice…it's still bleeding…cauterize…hold him…stay…Vin…no…"

"God!" Chris screamed as fire pressed against his body and he reacted instinctively, fighting to get away from this new torment.

"What the hells goin' on!" Wilmington called from his bedroll. He'd slept so deeply that nothing intruded on his dreams until the hellacious cry brought him upright. He threw back the quilt and stood up before rushing to his friend's aid.

"Easy, Buck, Nathan's trying to stop the bleeding," Sanchez explained, hoping the man understood they were only doing what was necessary to make sure Larabee survived this ordeal.

"You should have woke me," Wilmington growled and pushed closer to his friend. He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving room for Jackson to finish caring for the injured blond. "Hey, Pard, you need to calm down now. I'm here and no one's gonna hurt you while I got the watch. You hear me, Pard, ain't no one gonna hurt you."

Chris heard the other man's words and in spite of the pain he reached for the lifeline he'd been offered. He latched onto Buck's shirtsleeve and ground his teeth together until Jackson finished with the wound.

"Chris, I'm gonna give you some morphine now and it'll help with the pain," Jackson told him and measured out a dose of the drug before nodding to Wilmington that he was ready. Buck held Larabee's arm out and watched as the healer expertly inserted the needle and injected the medication into the injured man's veins. It didn't take long for the tension to leave Chris' face and his features relaxed as he drifted into a deep sleep.

"Why?"

"Why what, Buck?" Jackson asked.

"Why the hell did you knock me out when he needed me?" Wilmington asked angrily.

"Nathan did what he thought best, Buck…you were ready to pass out, but you wouldn't listen to reason," Sanchez told him.

"I told Chris I'd stay with him," the ladies' man said, rubbing at his eyes as Jackson handed him a cup of coffee. He looked at the liquid and then at the healer speculatively.

"It's just coffee, Buck," Jackson assured him. "You drink that and I'll send JD over to the saloon to get you something to eat."

"How's Vin?"

"He's got a bit of a fever and he won't be climbing up on any rooftops for a spell, but he should be okay if he takes it easy with that arm…"

"He's sittin' right here!" the Texan grumbled.

"Sittin'…thought I told you to lie down and rest!" Jackson lightly scolded.

"Been restin'…need somethin' ta eat now…eat not drink…man could die of drownin' if'n ya keep forcing them liquids down my throat," Tanner told him.

"Yeah well if ya have anythin' else yer jest gonna puke and I ain't in the mood ta clean ya up," Jackson told him and sat on the bed next to the Texan. "I'm sure Inez could make up a thick stew for ya if'n you feel up to it."

"That'd be good, Nate…how is he?"

"Which one?" Jackson asked softly.

"Both."

"Well, Buck's angry, but I can live with that as long's he takes a break every now and then," Jackson answered. "Chris is in rough shape, but Buck probably saved his life by gettin' that bullet out when he did. I know Chris lost a lot of blood, but by cauterizin' the wound that should stop. His shoulder's not as bad as it could have been, but like you he needs ta take it easy fer a spell."

"Ain't gonna be able ta take it easy, Nate, not with Royal and James out there. We need ta make sure the town's protected…"

"Josiah, Ezra, and JD are setting up watches and patrolling the outer area. If James or Royal show up they'll raise the alarm," Jackson advised and saw Tanner's shoulders slump. "Look, Vin, right now there's not a damn thing you can do about them, but you can help me out here. I need to know your restin' so's I can take care of Chris."

"I ain't going nowhere, Nate…not until them bastards show up then all bets are off," Tanner vowed and watched as Inez entered carrying a tray of food that sent his senses reeling, and his stomach grumbled in anticipation. "Please, tell me that's fer me?"

"I brought some beef stew for all of you," Recillos told him and glanced at Wilmington who'd resumed his vigil over the injured Larabee. She could tell the gentle rogue was still worried, but at least he didn't appear as exhausted as he'd been during the long hours he'd spent watching over Larabee. Inez placed the tray on the table and removed the cloth she'd used to cover it, smiling when Jackson moved to help her.

"Inez, you're a lifesaver," Jackson told her, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly as the savory smell reached his nostrils. He took a bowl and several biscuits over to the cot and set them on a chair for Vin to enjoy before helping Inez serve up another helping for Wilmington.

Inez walked across the short distance and waited for Buck to look at her before smiling and handing him the bowl of stew and a biscuit. "There's more if you want it."

"Thanks, Inez, this is good," Wilmington said after he tasted the savory stew.

"You're welcome, Buck," Recillos said, glancing toward the injured man before moving away from the bed. She'd seen how hard Chris' injuries were on Buck, and understood the depth of caring and emotion the man harbored. No matter what happened, Inez would always remember the look of utter despair she'd seen on Wilmington's face and hoped never to witness it again. She made her way back to the table as Nathan sat down to eat. "How is Senor Chris?"

"He's still burning up, but the bleeding seems ta have stopped and as long as we keep him calm and keep coollin' 'im down he should be back on his feet in a couple of weeks," Jackson answered.

"Yer gonna 'ave an angry rattler on yer hands if'n yer plannin' on keepin' 'im down that long," Tanner said, enjoying the hearty stew and biscuits.

"Prob'ly, but if'n he tries ta get up he'll fall flat on his face," Jackson told them seriously. "He's hurt…hurt bad, but like I said with rest and care…"

Buck heard the others talking and automatically finished off the food in the bowl before placing it on the floor beside him. He moved as if by some unseen signal and renewed his efforts to cool the feverish blond. He silently thought of another time, another place when Chris had been so close to death and how hard it had been to bring him back.

_**M7M7M7M7M7***************_

"_Buck, what happened?" Sarah asked, holding the door open so Wilmington could maneuver the semi-conscious man inside, out of the raging storm. Her hand strayed to her swollen belly where a new life grew and would soon make his or her way into this world._

"_I don't know, Sarah, I found him like this…he's burning up," Wilmington said as he lowered the lean man to the bed. He'd been coming back from a trip south to sell a couple of horses when he'd spotted Pony standing near the creek that ran along the edge of the Larabee ranch. Chris was supposed to go with him, but he hadn't been feeling very well and Sarah insisted he stay in bed. Something must have happened to bring Larabee out in a storm like the one brewing outside today. _

"_He said he was fine…I…I believed him," Sarah sniffed as tears flowed from her eyes. She'd been so tired that she hadn't even made her husband breakfast before he'd left this morning. If she had there was no way she would have let him go._

"_Easy, Sarah, Chris is a stubborn cuss and if he thought he could handle it he'd move hell and earth to prove he was right," Wilmington told her. _

"_He was sick…I should have known. If I'd gotten up with him this morning he never would have gotten out of this house. Damn you, Chris Larabee, for making me cry and for making me worry and for making me love you," Sarah sniffed and helped rid her husband of the wet clothing as a raspy wheeze reached her ears._

"_Sa...Sarah…don't cry…I'm n…not worth i...it," Larabee's voice was weak, but his hand snaked out to clasp hers and he held it to his cheek. Reaching up with his right hand, Chris wiped away the tears and wished he knew how to make what ever saddened her go away forever. _

"_Don't you dare say that, Chris Larabee…God help me, but I love you more than life itself," Sarah told him, and held onto his hand. "Why didn't you stay in bed this morning?"_

"_Had t…to get t…the horses back 'for t…they got lost in t…the storm," the blond managed before his eyes closed and he gave in to the illness wreaking havoc with his system._

"_God, Buck, if he was alone…"_

"_He wasn't, Darlin', he has you and when you're not around I'll be here," Wilmington vowed._

_**M7M7M7M7M7***************_

Buck startled awake and sat up, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking around the clinic. The dream had been so real and he could have sworn he heard Sarah's voice and saw the tears flowing from her eyes. Buck knew he was pushing things, but he could not help feeling that he had let Sarah down, and to leave Chris now would be sealing his fate and he was not about to do that.

"God, Chris," Wilmington whispered, unaware that he was being watched.

Vin had been awake for some time and knew the minute Buck had dozed off in the chair. Wilmington's face was bathed in candlelight and there was no mistaking the emotions waging for dominance. Vin had thrown back the blankets and sat on the edge of the cot, torn between leaving the man to his restless sleep or waking him to the nightmare reality they resided in. It was the anguished whisper that decided it for him and he stood up before walking unsteadily to the bed. "Easy, Buck, it jest me," the Texan soothed when Wilmington acted instinctively to the sound from behind him.

"Jesus, Vin, good way to get yourself shot," the rogue said and ran his fingers through disheveled hair.

"You look as bad as he does, Bucklin," the Texan teased, but there was no denying the fear in his voice as he looked at the washed out complexion of the injured blond.

"Nate says he's doing better, but I keep thinking he's saying that to ease my…"

"Yer what, Buck? Yer guilt…I hope the hell not 'cause God help me I can't see ya feelin' guilty 'bout what'cha did."

"What I did, Vin? We were facin' two dandies and I swear they'd have killed Mrs. Potter, but Chris and me were both suspicious when they went into her store."

"Them two brothers had one hell of a reputation…Josiah sent a telegram to Boston and it 'pears the Lawrence brothers are hired guns. They've killed a lot of men in 'fair' fights, Buck, but the truth is they kill fer money and sometimes they kill more than jest the person they's sent fer. Someone hired 'em ta come after y'all and if'n I was a bettin' man my money'd be on Royal and James," Tanner said.

"I agree, Vin, but there's not much we can do until they make their move. Do you think they'll try and take out the town again?"

"Wouldn't put it past 'em. They's getting' desperate by now 'specially if'n they know we've got a couple of their men in jail."

"I'll be glad when Travis gets here and we can send them to Yuma or hang 'em for what they've done," Wilmington stated.

"Think we all will…look, Buck, I ain't one fer sleepin right now so why don't'cha take the cot fer a couple of hours?"

"I'm not the one with a bummed up arm, Vin, I got your back and I'm not about to listen to Nate bicthin' about you being out of bed," Wilmington said and reached for the cloth that covered Larabee's forehead. "Go on back ta bed, Vin…I'll be here."

"All right, Bucklin, but'cha need ta stop hangin' on ta the guilt 'cause it'll jest keep bitin' yer ass and ya ain't got 'nough ta go 'round," Tanner said, rubbing at his injured shoulder as he moved back to the cot. He'd seen the smile on Wilmington's face and was glad he'd managed to tease him enough to ease his mind a little.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Standing in Death's Shadow----8

"When do we leave?" Curly Joe Newman asked the two men seated at the table near the front of the saloon. Neither man took notice of the beautiful whore who hovered nearby, but she listened to every word they had to say.

"Tomorrow at dawn. We figured we'd attack the town late tomorrow night when most of the people are sleeping," Royal explained. "Get some rest and be at the south end of town ready to ride."

"If we left now we'd be able ta take 'em by surprise," Newman told them, excited at the prospect of taking down the seven peacekeepers.

"If we left now then whoever Larabee put on patrol would spot us and warn the others we're coming," James snapped. "These men are not fools and they'll be expecting us to attack, but if we give the town time to get comfortable we'll be able to take them out and burn that hole to the ground."

"You're the boss," Newman said and moved back to the bar to join the trio already there.

Maria wasted no time once the men stopped talking. She'd known they were trouble the instant the two men arrived and started asking for anyone interested in a raid on Four Corners. Maria knew she should keep quiet and stay out of their business, but something about Chris Larabee affected her and she could not sit by and allow these men to attack the unsuspecting town. She hurried to the livery and asked the man to saddle a horse for her and knew what he would expect in payment for the use of the animal. Half an hour later she mounted a beautiful chestnut mare and headed north away from the noisy town.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Opening his eyes was a lesson in futility, but Chris managed to push past the fatigue and forced heavy lids to open to half mast. It took a minute to get his bearings and remember where he was. Jackson's clinic was beginning to be an all too familiar scene lately and he tried to remember what had happened to land him in the healer's care again. He shifted on the bed, setting off the fiery agony in his side, and nearly gave into the darkness that beckoned to him.

"Easy, Pard, you shouldn't be movin' around…"

"Thanks for the warning…your timing isn't worth shit!" Larabee ground out and heard a soft chuckle from the other man who held a cup to his lips. Chris took several swallows, cursing when he realized it wasn't water, but one of Jackson's special brews that tasted like horse piss and Vin aptly named skunk water. Knowing it would be hell if he puked, Chris fought to keep the noxious tasting liquid down and finally managed to get his rebellious stomach under control.

"Just breathe, Chris," Wilmington said softly.

"Warn me next time," Larabee spat.

"You wouldn't have drunk it if I had…" Wilmington saw Larabee's eyes narrow when he spotted the figure in the cot. "He's okay…took one in the shoulder, but Nathan says he should be okay as long's he takes it easy."

"Took one? Bullet? Vin was shot? When and how?" the blond snapped off the questions and left no doubt that he would have answers.

"They were ambushed on the way back from Eagle Bend…"

"Royal?"

"Yeah, we figure it was Royal and James since the men we've got locked up work for them," Wilmington explained.

"Damn…where are they?"

"Who? Royal and James?"

"Tell me we got the bastards," Larabee asked hopefully.

"I wish I could…but they hightailed it out of there before Vin and the others were able to get to them," Wilmington answered. "Josiah took a couple of men out to Royal's place, but he hasn't come back yet."

"Buck, is he awake?"

"I'm awake, Nathan," Larabee answered as the healer exchanged places with Wilmington.

"Good…had me worried there. How do you feel?"

"Feel like I've been stomped on by old man Rawlings' prize bull," the blond told him.

"Well, he gouged ya a couple of times, but Buck did a good job," Jackson said and made a quick examination of the injured man's wounds. "Ya ain't gonna be up and around for a spell, Chris, but you give me a week…maybe two and you'll be able to go back to your place…"

"Not until we get Royal and James," Larabee snapped.

"Well, you and Vin ain't gonna be much help when we do get them, Chris, you're both out of this one…"

"I can still hold a gun," the blond told him.

"Yes, you could, but I doubt you'd have the strength needed to aim it and pull the trigger. Ya need to sit this one out and let the rest of us take care of James and Royal," Jackson offered sympathetically, reaching for the cup Wilmington still held. "Ya need to drink this, Chris."

"It tastes like crap…"

"That may be, but ya've still got a fever and this will help bring it down some…"

"Someday they'll make a cure that don't taste like poison…"

"Yeah well until they do yer stuck with this," Jackson said, smiling when Larabee reluctantly took the cup and downed what was left.

"Happy?" Larabee grumbled.

"Like a pig in shit," the healer said and heard a soft chuckle from the other side of the room. "Don't be so damn cocky, Vin, you're next."

"Hell, Nate, I ain't got no fever and this ain't worth fussin' over," Tanner said, sitting up and fighting to keep from showing just how much it did hurt.

"Suck it up, Tanner," Larabee said, eyes sliding closed as the combination of pain and meds pulled him back under.

"Nathan…"

"He's doing better, Vin, but he ain't out of the woods yet. He's weak and lost a lot of blood and if'n he goes tryin' to move around he's only going to make it worse on himself…same as you…"

"I ain't doin' nothin' 'cept lying here and lettin' ya fuss over a crease…"

"Oh really…that crease went bone deep and I did some diggin' around before I got to that damn bullet. Rest, Vin, if anything happens ya'll be here ta make sure Chris don't do anything stupid," Jackson said, smiling at Wilmington who remained steadfast in the doorway. Buck still looked like he should be in bed, but Nathan knew there was no point in arguing with him. If push came to shove he'd resort to slipping him a sleeping draught again, and put up with Wilmington's anger later. "Buck, why don't you go get something to eat and see if Inez has something light for Vin and maybe some broth for Chris?"

"I…all right," Wilmington agreed and walked out of the clinic. His body ached from the long hours of sitting in the chair, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He'd promised Sarah he'd look out for Chris and damn anyone who tried to stand in his way.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Maria knew she should rest the horse, but the dangers of being a woman, alone on the trail, made her spur the animal faster. If she could make Four Corners by morning then she could warn the seven peacekeepers and hopefully save the town from Royal and James' plans for it. She heard the sound of horses in the distance and was torn between hiding or continuing onward as dawn began to lighten the sky around her.

Maria reached under her cloak and felt the familiar weapon she carried and knew she could use it if she had to. She'd used the gun on several occasions when a customer decided he could beat her to death, but he'd come to a different realization when facing the wrong end of a gun. Maria took a deep breath as she rounded a bend in the trail and spotted a trio of riders at the same time they spotted her. Something about the big man riding in front made her feel safe and she prayed her intuition was not steering her wrong. She drew to a stop as the newcomers reached her.

"Miss, it's dangerous for a woman to ride alone…"

"Please, I need to get to Four Corners. I need to warn Chris…"

"You know Chris Larabee?" Sanchez asked skeptically.

"Si, he has come to visit me…and has always been good to me. Please time is wasting and I must tell him…they are coming."

"Who?" Sanchez asked.

"Some men…I did not hear everything, but they were hiring men and willing to pay them to kill Chris and his compadres," Maria explained.

"Did you get the names?"

"Si…there were two…Royal and James I believe. Please we must hurry."

"We're from Four Corners," one of the others said and Josiah didn't miss the lustful way the man spoke.

"My name is Josiah Sanchez…Chris Larabee is a good friend and we were just heading back to Four Corners. You're welcome to ride with us," Sanchez offered.

"Thank you, Senor," Maria said, relieved that this man had crossed her path. She spurred her horse forward and rode alongside Sanchez, quickly relating her story.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

The sun shone in through the partially open curtains, the rays tiptoeing along as the sun rose higher in the sky. Two men slept on, blissfully unaware of the town coming to life around them. A third man watched over the duo, making sure no harm came to his friends while the other got some much needed rest.

Buck turned as footsteps sounded on the stairs and turned to see Nathan and the others enter the clinic. He held up his hands for quiet, but was shocked to see a pretty woman accompany them inside. "What's going on?"

"Is he…will he be okay?" Maria asked and hurried to the bed. She was shocked at how pale the blond looked and reached out to gently touch his cheek.

"Maria?" Wilmington asked, recognizing the whore Chris had visited in Purgatory on the anniversary of Sarah and Adam's death.

"Hello, Senor, it has been a long time. Did you hit Senor Chris again?" Maria asked, hoping to bring a smile to the man's pale face, surprised when a hand reached out and took hers.

"Maria? What are y…you…"

"I came to warn you and your friends, Senor," Maria told him as the others gathered around. She recognized several including Vin Tanner, and felt at ease amongst Larabee's friends.

"Warn us?" Larabee asked, clenching his hand in the blanket as the others lifted him forward and placed extra pillows behind him. It took several minutes before his breathing returned to normal and his eyes focused on the pretty woman seated next to his bed.

"Chris, drink this," Jackson ordered.

"No laudanum…I need to hear this," the blond warned.

"I know…it's just water for now," the healer vowed and was grateful when Larabee drank most of the water and turned to Maria.

"What's going on, Maria?" Larabee asked.

"I came to warn you that there are men coming to attack the town tonight. I overheard the ones called Royal and James talking to some of the worst cut throats and outlaws." Maria grew quiet as Larabee tried to climb out of bed, but was stopped by his friends.

"Damn it, Nathan, I can't just lie here…"

"That's about all you can do right now, Son," Sanchez said as Jackson easily pinned Larabee to the bed.

"Now you just lie there or so help me I'll force the laudanum down your throat and you'll stay out of it until whatever Royal and James are planning is over. Understood?" Jackson snapped.

"Understood," Larabee grumbled, frustrated that he was stuck in the bed. The slight hint of a smile on Tanner's face only made matters worse. "How come he's so damn…"

"Because he's just got one extra hole in him now shut up and let Maria finish her story," Jackson warned.

"Mr. Jackson, your bedside manner is…"

"Shut up, Ezra," the healer told him and turned to Maria. "Go ahead…tell us the rest."

"They were talking to Curly Joe about their plans. They were leaving at dawn this morning and planning to attack late tonight after the people of your town are asleep."

"Damn it! We need to get things…"

"You need to calm down, Chris!" Jackson warned.

"Chris, we need to hear this so you might as well be quiet and let her talk," Wilmington told his friend. "Maria, do you have any idea how many men signed on with Royal and James?"

"No…but they were offering a lot of money…more than most of these men would see in a year," the woman explained. "I'm sorry…I wish I could tell you more."

"You did good, Maria," the rogue offered. "We need to put this town on alert and maybe set up a few guards on the trails in case they decide to attack from all sides."

"JD, get Yosemite to round up as many able bodied men as he can," Larabee ordered, taking charge even from the bed.

"Sure, Chris," Dunne said and hurried out the door.

"Josiah, I want you to set up a watch at both ends of town and make sure they know what to expect," the blond explained. "Any chance we can get the women and children to leave?"

"I doubt we'd convince Gloria Potter or Inez to leave, but we can get the children out," Sanchez told him.

"Miss Nettie would prob'ly put the children up," Tanner offered.

"She's in town getting supplies," Jackson said and turned to the Texan with a slight smile. "She'll be up to check on ya before she leaves."

"I'll ask her then," the sharpshooter told them.

"Ezra, would you speak with Gloria and the other parents and ask them if they'd be willing to leave when Nettie's ready?" Larabee asked, wincing as he shifted on the bed.

"Indeed I shall," Standish said and hurried outside, passing Nettie Wells at the doorway.

"My stars, he's in a hurry," Nettie exclaimed, making her way toward the Texan. "You look terrible…"

"I feel better'n I look," Tanner assured her.

"Good…so tell me what happened?" the elderly woman ordered.

"Long story…Royal and James are dead set on makin' us pay for goin' against 'em," Vin told her.

"I thought we'd seen the last of Guy Royal," Nettie said. "What can I do to help?"

"We're expecting them to attack sometime tonight and we need…"

"Mr. Larabee, it appears you need to rest," Wells said, interrupting the blond before he could explain exactly what he had in mind.

"I keep tellin' him that, but he's too damned hotheaded ta listen," Jackson said. "We were hopin' ya'd be agreeable ta having some guests until after this is all over."

"Tell me what you want me to do," Nettie ordered.

"Ezra's gone to check with the families who have children and ask them if they're willing to leave town before Royal and James get here. We're expecting them some time tonight and would rather not have to worry about children getting hurt…"

"Say no more, Mr. Sanchez," Nettie assured him. "I have a few more things to pick up and anyone who wants to stay at my place is very welcome."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wells," Larabee said, his voice heavy with pain and fatigue.

"There's no need for thanks, Mr. Larabee, you and your men saved my place when Royal tried to steal it out from under me. You boys came to this town's aid when they turned their back on you and gave Marshall Bryce the job without a backward glance. That speaks very highly of each one of you and I am proud to have had the honor of meeting all of you," Nettie said and placed her hands on her hips as she stared from Larabee to Tanner. "Now I doubt there's anything you two can do to help right now and I'm sure Mr. Jackson could use a break so why don't the rest of you get on out of here and let these two rest?"

"We need…"

"To listen to your elders, Mr. Larabee," Nettie lightly scolded as Jackson measured out a dose of laudanum. She watched as the gunman reluctantly swallowed it and the other removed the pillows and eased him back down. "It's time to let someone else take charge for a spell."

"I hear you, Mrs. Wells," Larabee said, smiling as the older woman turned her attention to the tracker. His eyelids grew heavy, but he knew if he could see the Texan's face there would be a slight hint of red when Nettie scolded him.

"Boys, let's take this outside," Sanchez ordered softly. He stepped out into the bright afternoon sunshine and waited for the others to join him. "We need to make sure Nettie's place is protected…Royal's not one to forgive and forget."

"I was thinking the same thing, Josiah," Wilmington said. "Maybe we can get a couple of the men to tag along with them."

"Josiah, Yosemite's rounding up the men now, but I ran into Conklin and he's bitching about us always bringing trouble to the town," Dunne said, breathing hard as he raced up the stairs.

"Easy, Kid, slow down and take a breath before you bust a gut," Jackson warned.

"Conklin's talking about running us out of town before Royal and James get here…"

"Conklin's always trying to run us out of town, JD, people just don't listen to him anymore," Sanchez said and heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Mrs. Potter is closing her mercantile and speaking with the other families as we speak," Standish told them and leaned against the railing as Nettie Wells exited the clinic.

"They are both resting, Mr. Jackson," the elderly woman explained and made her way toward the stairway. "I'm going to get Casey and find out how many guests we'll be having tonight."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wells…we're going to send a couple of men along with you in case they decide to check on you," Wilmington told her.

"Good…I know we'll all be waiting for word that Royal and James are no longer a threat," Nettie said before saying good bye to the others and heading down the stairs.

"JD, I know you want to stay and…"

"Don't ask me to go with them, Buck, not now…not after everything that's happened," Dunne said simply, but there was no denying the younger man's meaning.

"Buck, JD needs to be here just like the rest of us," Sanchez offered and the five men began working out a plan to make the town as safe as possible from the imminent attack.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Standing in Death's Shadow----9

Chris could hear voices speaking in low tones and opened his eyes to Nathan's worried frown. He tried to speak, but it turned into a bout of coughing that left him weak and in agony as he twisted his body trying to escape the searing pain emanating from his right side.

"Easy, Chris, just try and be still…I'm almost through here," Jackson warned and wished there was an easier way to treat the shoulder wound.

"Jesus, Nate, you're not mining for gold," Larabee groused.

"Quit yer bellyachin' and let 'im do what's gotta be done!" Tanner snapped from the cot.

"Easy for you to say…you're not the one he's…"

"Chris, you want to lose this damn arm?" Jackson asked.

"What the hell do you think?' Larabee snapped and sighed tiredly when he realized the healer was doing what he did best and there was no one else he'd rather have taking care of the wound. He caught the former stretcher bearer's eyes and that one look was all that was needed to tell him Jackson understood where he was coming from.

"Before ya ask…the others are out settin' things up as best they can. Nettie Wells convinced Mrs. Potter her children needed her and she went with the townsfolk who are stayin' at the Wells' place. Will Carter and old man O'Brian went with them."

"Tom's in town?" Larabee asked.

"Tom and Martha rode in just after lunch and decided they'd stick around and help out any way they could. Tom's oldest boy is good with his rifle and he's gonna help at the Well's place," Jackson told them. "Martha said to remind ya she'd be more'n willin' ta come sit on you if'n you give me any problems."

"That's somethin' I'd love ta see," Tanner said.

"You would," Larabee snapped and looked around the clinic. "Where's Buck?"

"I had Josiah drag him down to the saloon ta get somethin' ta eat and ta give me a break…he's worn out, Chris."

"I know…he thought I was going to die, Nathan…I nearly did," the blond whispered.

"I know…Buck saved your life by getting that bullet out when he did. You were bleeding more'n he realized and that's why I had ta cauterize the wound in your side…"

"Then why're you digging in my shoulder?" Larabee asked.

"Because in spite of you being in bed and Buck's care the wound is infected," the healer answered and finished re-bandaging the wound before sitting back and looking at both patients. He knew when Royal and James showed up there was no way he could keep Vin out of the fight. The sharpshooter would be watching through the window and could handle a gun with one hand, but there was no way in hell Chris could sit up, let alone take part in the melee that was sure to start when the outlaws entered Four Corners.

Chris reached up and unconsciously rubbed his aching shoulder as he watched Jackson's face closely. The healer was worried, but he was also tired and Larabee knew he was to blame for part of it. He hated being down, but right now he really didn't have much choice in the matter. He didn't have the strength to put up a fight, but he'd never been one to sit back and let someone else fight his fights for him. The fact that Royal and James held all of the peacekeepers responsible for their losses didn't make a difference and yet here he was flat on his back and forced to rely on the others to take care of the town…their town…their home. "Nathan…"

Chris, you're gonna have to sit this one out…"

"I know…it's just…"

"You hate the thought that the rest of us are doing what you think you should be doing?" Jackson said and saw the truth of his words on Larabee's face. "Look, Chris, we've all been hurt and forced to step down and let the others do our jobs…mind you that with you and Vin it tends to happen a lot…I wonder if there's a dark cloud hovering over both of ya?"

Chris smiled at Jackson's attempt at humor and knew the man was right. Sighing heavily he tried to get comfortable and smiled when Inez Recillos entered the clinic carrying a tray of food. The aroma played havoc with his senses and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of something more satisfying than broth. He tried to sit up further, grateful when Jackson helped him sit forward and placed several pillows behind his back. "Thanks," the blond managed once his breathing was under control.

"You're welcome," Jackson said while Inez placed the tray on the table and Tanner moved to sit on one of the chairs. "Go easy, Vin…"

"No way in hell," the Texan snapped and dug into the hearty beef stew. "It's good…thanks, Inez…"

"You are welcome, Senor," Recillos said and brought a cup over to the bed. "I thought maybe you could try something light."

"The stew smells great," Larabee tried and smiled when she handed him a cup of warm liquid. It wasn't as thick as usual, but it smelled great and Chris sipped the flavorful broth that had a few vegetables mixed in. It didn't take long for him to realize why Jackson warned them to go easy as his stomach heaved and he lost what little he managed to take in. By the time he was finished he was trembling, and pain once more permeated from every inch of his body.

"That's it, Chris, just breathe and you'll be fine," the healer offered and wished Wilmington had not chosen that minute to enter the clinic.

"Chris?" Wilmington whispered and moved toward the bed. He sat on the chair Jackson vacated and looked at the pale man whose body was bathed in sweat. "What the hell's wrong with him, Nathan?"

"He's okay, Buck, ya know Chris when he's sick or hurting…he just has to take things slow," Jackson answered.

"Sarah used to tell him that all the time, but he never listened to her either," Wilmington told them and saw a hint of a smile on Larabee's face. "Stubborn fool…"

"T…takes one to know o…one," Larabee managed and grew serious once more. "Is everything ready?"

"As ready as we can be, Chris," the rogue explained. "There's nothing you can do about it anyway so just do as Nate says and let the rest of us take the heat for a change."

"Buck…"

"I mean it, Chris…Nate's worked hard to make sure you're going to be okay…"

"Nate wasn't the only one," Larabee interrupted and reached out to touch his friend's arm. "Thank you…"

"Hell, Chris, I didn't do much…"

"You saved my life…again," the blond told him sighing heavily as the events of the last few days caught up to him again and his eyes closed.

"He's sleeping, Buck," Jackson assured the other man and looked toward the Texan. The man was pale, but he was in better shape than Larabee, and Nathan knew the Texan would do everything he could to protect the injured blond. It was going to be a long night, and who knew what tomorrow would bring. Nathan stood and walked to the window and looked out over a town that was quieter than usual and prayed they'd all be alive to watch the sunrise.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

The riders slowed down as the darkness advanced and the night sky became dotted with bright skies. The moon slowly rose above the horizon, lighting the way for the men who wanted to throw caution to the wind in their haste to reach Four Corners. Guy Royal knew it would do no good to reach the town before the people had turned in for the night, but it was hard to hold the men back. He glanced at the man riding beside him and knew Stuart James was thinking about the seven men who'd cost them both so much.

Lucas James had been hung for murdering Potter, but it was Larabee and his bunch that had been responsible for his death. Circuit Judge Orrin Travis may have passed sentence, but it was because of Larabee and his men that Lucas was forced to stand trial. Even Conklin and several other townsmen had wanted to set Lucas James free, but their wishes had been denied and the final judgment passed.

"I wish we could see theirs faces when we ride in," James said.

"I do too, but if we want the element of surprise we need to stick to the plan," Royal told him. The plan had been formulated during the early morning hours and would see James taking a dozen men and riding in from the north end of town, while Royal took the remaining men in from the south. Once the attack began several riders would ride on the outskirts of town and come at them from both sides, basically penning the town up while the inhabitants slept.

"It would be fun to take them alive and make them watch while the town burned."

"As much as I would love nothing more than to see Tanner's face while we took everything we wanted…I don't think it would be wise to keep them alive. Now if we happen to get our hands on one or two of them we could teach them a lesson in western etiquette," Royal said, chuckling softly.

"How much further?"

"Well, Curly, we should be seeing the street fires in about an hour," James explained. "You and the rest of your bunch are to follow me north of the town and we attack the same time Royal and his men do."

"We get to take anything we want…kill who we want…enjoy the women…"

"Of course, but Larabee and Tanner are off limits," Royal warned.

"I hear ya," Curly Joe said with a malicious grin on his face. He let out a loud whoop and went back to join his friends.

Royal and James smiled as they rode onward and knew the town of Four Corners was in for a rude awakening. Hopefully by the time the sun came up seven men would be dead and their bodies hung from a tree at the end of town. That thought alone brought a smile to their faces and without realizing they were doing so, both men spurred the horses on.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Josiah kept to the shadows, away from the flickering flames of the street fires and glanced down the darkened alleyways between the buildings. There were lights on in several windows, but Josiah knew there was no one inside because most of the town was deserted except for the men and several women who'd stayed behind to help protect Four Corners.

Josiah looked toward the clinic and spotted Nathan near the top of the stairs and knew he would remain in that position while Vin watched through the open window. Maria had opted to stay in town and was staying in the clinic to help Vin load his weapons and to help Nathan protect both men. A slight breeze picked up the dust and settled it mere inches from where it started, while the eerie sound of silence made his skin crawl. Four Corners had never been a noisy town by any stretch of the imagination, but tonight it was ominously quiet.

"JD, are you okay?" Sanchez asked upon passing the jail.

"I got it covered, Josiah," Dunne answered, covering the older man as he dashed across the street and stepped into the saloon.

"Josiah, maybe Maria was mistaken," Wilmington stated, but there was no doubt in his mind that an attack was imminent. He smiled at the pretty Mexican woman who stood at the other window, a loaded gun in her hand.

"Riders coming in from the south," Tom Wilson said upon dismounting and hurrying toward them.

"How much time do we have, Tom?" Sanchez asked, signaling to the others that things were about to heat up.

"About ten…maybe fifteen minutes," the farmer answered and hurried to Potter's store where he could help watch the street.

"Buck, you and Inez be careful," Sanchez ordered.

"Watch your back, Josiah," Wilmington warned.

Josiah nodded and strode purposefully down the deserted street. He passed word along that they should be on their toes and was not surprised by how many people had stuck around to help protect Four Corners. People like Conklin and Heidegger had left town like rats on a sinking ship, while Yosemite, Watson and most of the men stayed to protect what belonged to them. Sanchez glanced toward the rooftops and nodded to the men stationed there. If things went according to plan they would be able to take Royal and his men down before they caused too much damage, but Josiah had always been a worrier. They had no idea how many men were with Royal and James and although they'd sent word to the army they had not received an answer.

Josiah hurried toward the church he was rebuilding and took the time to say a silent prayer before taking position on the opposite side of the street. From this vantage point he would be able to hear the riders and give warning if need be. The absence of normal night noises drove home the fact that things were not as they should be.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Guy Royal had never been a patient man and now that they were so close to proving it was a mistake to go against the big ranchers, he wanted to move. Fifteen minutes had passed since James had taken his bunch north of the town and in another five they would attack simultaneously. The horses seemed to be as impatient as he was and a soft whisper told him the others were as anxious as he was to get moving. Royal reached into his pocket and checked his timepiece, grinning malevolently as he motioned for the others to get ready to move out.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Stuart James took a deep breath as the cutthroats and outlaws readied themselves to attack the unsuspecting town. He checked his timepiece, smiling when he realized in less than a minute they would move on Four Corners. Once the seven were dead, the town would be burned to the ground as a warning to anyone else who considered going against them. The soft call of a bird could be heard in the distance, a solemn sentry signaling the start of a new era. James lifted his hand and signaled his men to ride out while two men rode ahead on either side. They would join up with two men from Royal's group and attack the town from the side.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Standing in Death's Shadow----10

Vin Tanner sat on the chair and rubbed at his injured shoulder. Maria was seated next to Larabee's bed, but she would be ready when he needed her. Vin returned his attention to the street and watched the flickering flames as the soft breeze gently blew between the buildings. He'd spotted Josiah earlier, but had stayed back so that no one would know he was watching the street.

"Would you like something to drink, Senor?" Maria asked.

"Just some water," the Texan answered, grateful when she handed him a glass of water. "Thanks…how's he doin'?"

"Whatever Senor Jackson gave him is making him sleep, but he still seems restless," Maria explained.

"Chris is always restless," Tanner observed softly and looked back at the streets in time to see Josiah give the signal that Royal and James were coming.

"Vin, they're comin'," Jackson called from the open doorway.

"I'm ready fer 'em," the Texan assured him, nodding as Maria made sure she had everything she needed. Tension could be felt in the air, yet Tanner seemed cool and calm as he watched from his vantage point.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

"Here they come," Yosemite whispered to his companion and aimed his weapon toward the approaching riders. His hand shook, but he quickly brought it under control as he aimed at the leader. He lay flat on the roof of the livery and waited for the signal from Josiah or one of the other peacekeepers.

"I could get a good shot right now," John Callaway whispered.

"No…we wait for Josiah's signal," Yosemite ordered.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Royal led his group into town, a smile forming on his face at the thought of burning Four Corners to the ground. The soft clop of the horseshoes was the only sound as they rode past the livery. He knew James should be entering from the north and drew his gun, signaling for the others to follow suit.

There were several buildings with light showing through partially open curtains, but for the most part the town looked like any other town where people turned in early. Royal looked left and right, but found nothing out of the ordinary and his excitement mounted as he called a halt to his band of outlaws.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Josiah knew everything hinged on him and his signal, yet it was hard to tell who would really have the element of surprise. Royal and James had a large contingent of riders coming in from both ends of town and if Maria was right, they were outlaws and cutthroats. He watched from his vantage point opposite the church and aimed his gun at the riders entering the town.

The town was deathly silent, mostly deserted except for a few men and women who stayed behind to protect the belongings of those who resided in Four Corners. Josiah heard several voices speaking in low tones and knew it was time to act. With a silent prayer for those who were destined to die this night, Sanchez fired at the lead rider and was rewarded when the man toppled from his saddle.

"Take them down!" Royal shouted and fired toward Sanchez, who ducked back behind the wall while JD fired from the jail. Another man tumbled from the saddle, but the men quickly realized they were riding into a trap and dismounted, diving for cover behind anything that would keep them from taking a bullet.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Buck fired on two men who were running alongside the terrified horses. He smiled in spite of the danger, as Inez began spitting out words in her own language and fired the gun he'd given her. Her shot was either a lucky one, or he was seeing another side of her that was unexpected, because a yelp of pain told him she'd hit one of their attackers.

"Cover me," Wilmington ordered and quickly reloaded his gun as Inez fired two successive shots into the dark.

"I need to reload," she warned and was relieved to see Buck had already reloaded his guns and had taken up position to the left of the batwing doors. She knew the others were already heavily involved in the fight, and silently prayed that they could hold James and Royal's men off until the army arrived. Inez completed her task and lifted her head, staring out the window, ducking down again when a shot struck just to the right of her vantage point.

"Inez, are you…"

"I am fine, Senor, but remind me to charge Royal and James for the damage they are causing!" Recillos snapped.

"I'll take it out of their hides," Wilmington said with a soft chuckle, firing at a man who made the mistake of looking out from behind a barrel.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

"They're gonna tear this town apart and hang yer bunch from the nearest tree!"

"Shut the hell up or I'll shoot you both right now and save Judge Travis having to waste time with a trial," Dunne snarled, pointing one of his guns at the man standing in the jail cell.

"Ya can't…yer sworn ta see justice is done!"

"And that's exactly what I'll be doing…now shut up and get back there!" Dunne ordered, and returned his attention to the action outside. A slight smile formed on his face as he realized this really was the life he'd craved when he'd left home, yet the six men he now called brothers had changed his perspective in many ways. He fired at a man who was stupid enough to change positions and was rewarded by the sharp cry of pain that signaled his shot had been a good one.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Vin fired several shots before the men raced for cover and knew he'd taken out at least two of the attackers as Maria handed him a new weapon to replace the empty he handed her. His attention was focused on the street below and he missed the sound from the man on the bed.

Chris fought his way up through the layers of fog and silently cursed Nathan for using the heavy dose of laudanum to knock him on his ass. The sound of gunfire had intruded on his dreams and it hadn't taken long for him to remember what was happening around him. He shoved back the blankets and sat up, his hand pressed against the wound in his side as he slid his legs over the edge of the bed.

"No, Senor, you should not be up…"

"Get yer sorry ass back in the bed or I'll shoot ya myself!" Tanner ordered, firing a shot at a man foolishly trying to hide behind the horse trough.

"Maria, ha…hand me my g…gun," Larabee ordered as he struggled to his feet, ignoring the fact that he was nearly naked. He stumbled toward the door, hand reaching for the weapon Maria held out to him.

"Chris, git yer fool head down!" the Texan ordered as a bullet flew past him and embedded in the opposite wall.

Larabee took several shuffling steps, leaning against the doorframe as the sound of gunfire continued from the street below. He closed his eyes, ignoring the mounting nausea as he bent low at the waist and made his way outside.

"Jesus, Chris, that's a good way ta get yourself shot!" Jackson warned and fired at a man who'd climbed onto the roof across the street. "What the hell are ya doin' out here?"

"Help…helping," Larabee said, blinking the sweat from his eyes before glancing down at the street.

"Helping yourself to a coffin you blamed fool!" the healer snarled, but turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, shocked when the would be attacker wound up with a bullet from Larabee's gun. "Thanks…"

"Any time…"

"Now get back ta bed!"

"La…ter," the blond managed, fighting to stay on his feet as gunshots echoed all around. He fired several times at a figure hiding in the shadows at the same time a bullet splintered the railing he hid behind.

"Here, Senor…"

"Thanks…Maria," Larabee said accepting a new gun and handing off his empty weapon.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Stuart James cursed as he dismounted and ran for cover in the nearest alley. Several of his bunch had gone down under the initial gunfire, but most had been smart enough to dive from their saddles and head for cover. The animals galloped down the street past the fires and out of Four Corners leaving at least three men trampled to death by panicked horses.

James fired toward the shadows near the church, but ducked back before he could tell if he'd hit anyone as bullets kicked up the dirt near his feet. James fired several rounds, reloaded, and raced across the open alley until he found a better vantage point. He dropped to his knees and took cover behind a stack of discarded boards and again reloaded his gun.

James briefly wondered if Royal realized they were caught in a trap and knew the answer was a resounding yes as he heard answering shots from the other end of town. Someone had warned the peacekeepers that trouble was coming their way and the townspeople had shown more guts than he'd given them credit for by hiding in wait for them. There would no doubt be some bodies tonight, the question was whether there'd be anyone alive come sunrise to claim victory.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Ezra had taken to the rooftop of the hotel and was pleasantly surprised at the view it afforded. It gave him new respect for the sharpshooter who often made his way up top and fired down on the 'bad element'. His thoughts turned to Mary Travis and her son and he was glad they were both out of town visiting Judge Travis and his wife. A shot rang out and he saw a dark figure dash across the street. Instincts kicked in and Ezra fired, his shot sending the man sprawling in the dirt as the horses disappeared into the darkness beyond the fires.

Standish thought about his mother and what she would think of him laying his life on the line for no more than a dollar a day plus room and board. His mother had seemed to understand his position in town when she'd last visited, but she'd always gone by the motto… _'Appearances are everything, Dear Boy.'_

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

Virgil Watson had lived most of his life in Four Corners and had survived attacks by outlaws and Indians. He'd survived by knowing when to keep his head down and right now his mind was screaming at him to hide somewhere until this was all over. Ignoring the tiny voice in his head, Virgil fired at the alley across the street and hoped his bullet found one of the bastards with Royal and James. Judge Travis had done wonders for the town when he'd hired the seven peacekeepers and it was fast becoming a place they could be proud of. Now they had to show their support of the seven and help take care of what they owned.

Virgil spotted Buck Wilmington firing at someone hidden in the shadows and smiled when he heard a bellow of outrage from one of the attackers. Virgil briefly wondered how many men had been shot this night, but he knew it was far from over as more gunfire echoed through the dark streets. He briefly wondered how much time had passed since Royal and James attacked, but there was no way of knowing since it felt like it was going on for days.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7**

"Inez!" Wilmington shouted when he heard her cry out. He turned in time to see the color drain from her face and the blood soak through the sleeve of her dress. He ducked below the window and reached her just as Guy Royal shoved the batwing doors open and glanced around the saloon.

"You bastards never learn, Wilmington, and this time the whole damn town will pay including your girlfriend there!" Royal spat and smiled when the peacekeeper tried to cover the woman's body with his own. "Get up!"

"Put the gun down and face me like a real man!" Wilmington spat.

"What? Fight with you? Now why on God's green earth…"

"Don't bring God into this, Royal, you've sided with the devil and he's about to lose!" the rogue said with a slight grin.

"You really think you could take me, Wilmington?"

Buck felt Inez stirring and knew he had to get help for her, but Royal blocked the entrance. "You're a coward with a gun who probably needs to hide behind a ladies skirt…"

"Why you miserable bastard!" Royal snarled, tossing the gun aside as Wilmington stood and faced him. They circled each other, stepping over Inez until Buck led the big man away from the downed woman.

Buck ducked under Royal's fist as the man tried to take him by surprise and quickly drove his fist into the man's exposed gut.

Royal backed up several feet, but recovered quickly, smiling as he realized Wilmington's attention was divided between him and the semi-conscious woman. He used his fists and struck out, connecting several times before Wilmington was able to take the upper hand again and sent a kick to his stomach, driving him through the batwing doors. He stumbled out into the street and horror shone on his face as a shot rang out. He realized his mistake as he looked down at his chest and saw the blossoming red stain.

"Die you miserable bastard!" Wilmington spat, watching as the rancher fell heavily to the ground and lay still. Buck hurried back inside as Inez moaned and tried to sit up. "Stay there, Inez…"

"Buck…what hap…happened?"

"You were shot…"

"Royal?"

"He was here, but he's dead," Wilmington said, leaving her long enough to find something he could use to staunch the flow of blood. He raced behind the bar; silently praying no one else would come through the doors until he finished with Inez. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and several towels before going back to the injured woman. Buck quickly tore the sleeve, wincing sympathetically as he spotted the deep furrow along her arm between elbow and shoulder. "Damn, that's gotta hurt…sorry, Darlin', but I need to clean this."

Inez cried out when he poured whiskey over the wound and then pressed the cloth against her arm. She fought back the tears as she gripped Wilmington's arm and saw something on his face that spoke of enormous guilt. "Not your fault, Buck," she whispered.

"You should have gone with Nettie and the others," Wilmington said, his head coming up as he heard the sound of approaching horses_. 'Please let it be the army and not more of Royal or James' men,'_ he thought.

"Go check!" Recillos ordered.

"Keep pressure on it!" Wilmington told her. He found his gun on the floor where he'd left it when Inez was shot and hurried to the door. Glancing up and down the street, Buck caught sight of something that made him realize his faith in God should never waiver. Two columns of soldiers rode into town from both ends and were quickly turning the tide of the attack. "It's the army, Inez."

"Thank God…"

"I already did," Wilmington said and hurried to her side. He sat down, leaned against the bar and pulled her up so that she lay against his chest. He adjusted her dress so that her upper body was covered and held his gun at the ready should the wrong people enter the saloon.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Standing in Death's Shadow----11

"The army's here!" Jackson told Larabee who hadn't moved since exiting the clinic.

"Make sure they know who it is they're protecting," Larabee warned and sank down on the landing.

"Ya need ta get back in the bed!" the healer ordered.

"I will…soon's you speak to the man in charge," the blond warned and turned to the pretty woman who'd helped him when his gun was empty.

"You stay put!" Jackson warned and headed for the stairs.

"Maria, check on Vin…"

"I's fine, Cowboy," Tanner's voice was a welcome sound to Larabee, but there was an underlying pain in his words.

"Maria…"

"I will check on him," Maria said and hurried inside.

"Nathan…I thought…"

"You're a hard bastard ta kill, Larabee!"

"James!" the blond snarled and tried to swing his weapon around, but the rancher was faster than he looked. Chris cried out as James' boot connected with his right side and sent daggers of pain through his body. Chris thought he heard Tanner, but the pain was quickly taking control, and nausea churned through his gut. He struggled to get to his feet, but someone grabbed him around the throat and positioned him so that he faced the clinic. Larabee forced his eyes open and through tunnel-like vision honed in on the Texan standing in the open doorway, a gun aimed directly at him.

"Put it down Tanner, or I kill Larabee right now."

"The army's here, James…you and Royal lost so put the damn gun down now!" Sanchez said from the top of the stairs.

"Why? I'm dead anyway, but I figure with Larabee as a shield I can maybe take a few of you with me," James said. "Now why don't you call the rest of your pals up here and we'll have our own little trial?"

"D…don't…" Larabee managed, crying out when James dug the barrel of his gun into his shoulder, drawing blood from the partially healed wound. His vision blurred, and he tried to ignore the encroaching darkness, but his field of vision was getting narrower with every passing minute.

"You don't have a say in this, Larabee!" James snarled and returned his attention to the others.

"Don't I?" the blond asked and shoved backward with every ounce of strength he had left. He felt James come up against the rail and knew they only had one chance.

James fought to keep his balance as the force of Larabee's move drove him backward against the railing. He fought to stay on his feet, but his height and weight went against him as he felt his nemesis shove him once more and his body was suddenly airborne. Instincts kicked in and he latched onto Larabee's injured arm.

Chris cried out as Stuart James grabbed his arm and pulled him over the edge. Closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer, Chris braced himself for an impact that never happened. As darkness threatened once more he felt Sanchez and Tanner dragging him back over the railing and onto the solid landing.

"Jesus, Larabee, that was some move!" Tanner said with a slight grin, glad to see Jackson had returned.

"Easy, Chris, just sit for a minute and we'll get you back to bed," Jackson said.

"All the same to you…rather Maria did it," Larabee said, relieved to see the others smile at him before they pulled him to his feet and half carried him back into the clinic.

"Nathan, I'll go speak with whoever is in command and see if they have a doctor to help you out," Sanchez offered.

"Thanks, Josiah," Jackson said as Larabee was lowered onto the bed. "Vin, are you okay?"

"I'll keep, Nathan," Tanner answered truthfully and moved to sit on the cot. He felt Jackson's gaze on him and tried to assure the man that he really was okay, but the healer could see right through his façade.

"Just stay put until I get done with Chris," the healer ordered and peeled back the blood soaked bandage from the wound to Larabee's side. "Sonofabitch!"

"What's wrong?" Tanner asked.

"James must have kicked him…he's got a boot shaped bruise forming and he reopened the wound," Jackson said, smiling as Maria brought him a basin of water.

"Nathan, the army brought a doctor with them and he has offered his services," Standish said upon entering the clinic. "We're setting him up in the hotel lobby."

"How many?"

"Ten to twelve of the miscreants who chose to ride with Royal and James," the gambler answered, glancing at Larabee and Tanner.

"Are they going to be okay?"

"I dunno…right now I gotta stop the bleeding," Jackson snapped.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Ask Inez…"

"Inez is one of the injured," Standish told them.

"How bad?" Tanner asked.

"A bullet creased her right arm…deep, but according to the doctor she'll be able to tend bar in a week," Standish answered.

"Anyone hurt seriously?" Jackson asked, not liking how pale Larabee was getting.

"No…Royal and James are both dead…"

"No loss there," Tanner offered.

"Ezra, would you go ask the doctor if he can come up here?"

"Certainly," Standish said and hurried from the clinic.

"Nathan, what's wrong?" Tanner asked.

"I don't know, Vin, but there's something wrong here and I'd rather have a real doc…"

"Nathan, yer a doc in every way except a paper and sometimes paper ain't worth a damn," the Texan offered and hoped Jackson realized what he meant to the town and especially to the people who saw him work his wonders. Jackson had been given a gift and he'd used that gift to try to save the lives of every man, woman, or child who came to see him.

"Na…Nathan…"

"Easy, Chris, just lie still now and we'll get you fixed up," Jackson said.

"The town?"

"The town's fine and it looks like Royal and James are not a threat any longer," the healer explained.

"Side and arm hurts…"

"I know it does, but it'll get better, Chris, ya just did too much, too soon," Jackson told him, hoping and praying James had done nothing more than open the wounds and that the resulting blood loss would not prove to be Larabee's undoing. He turned to the door as Standish and Sanchez hurried inside.

"Dr. Phillips will be here shortly," Standish told them. "He said to tell you to make sure the wounds were clean and send for him if the bleeding continued."

Nathan took a deep breath and looked at Tanner who fought to remain in a seated position. There was no doubt that the Texan had overdone things, but Jackson understood his reasons for needing to be at the window. Between him and Larabee there had never been two more stubborn men born, although if he was being truthful, stubbornness was a staple, maybe even a requirement of their chosen line of work.

"I'm fine, Nate," Tanner said.

"I wish I had a penny for every time one of ya said that…I'd be a rich man by now," Jackson quipped, but returned his attention to Larabee who was watching him through hooded eyes, pain evident in the green depths. "I got some morphine…"

'Not until…we know ev…everyone's okay," Larabee protested.

"Chris, everyone's fine," Sanchez lied, somewhat relieved when Larabee closed his eyes. He knew Nathan was worried and hoped Phillips would get there soon.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Jonathon Phillips looked around the crowded room, analyzing who needed to be treated first. Most of the injuries were minor and simply needed to be cleaned and kept that way. He moved to check on the pretty woman, and knew the man seated on the chair beside her was one of the peacekeepers sworn to protect the town and its inhabitants. The man's name was Buck, and he'd been a real menace when he carried the woman into the hotel and ordered Phillips to take care of her first.

Phillips had motioned for him to place her on one of the cots someone had set up and quickly checked her arm. The wound was deep and would need stitches and Phillips quickly loaded a syringe with morphine before injecting it into her arm. He remembered the anger that flared in Wilmington's eyes when he'd turned to walk away. It hadn't disappeared even after he explained that he wanted to give the drug a chance to work before he stitched the wound.

"All right, Miss Recillos, let's see about making sure this doesn't leave much of a scar," Phillips said as Wilmington got in behind her and allowed her upper body to rest against his chest. "You're not going to shoot me are you, Mr. Wilmington."

"Depends," the rogue left the threat hanging, fighting off the exhaustion and worry he felt as the army doctor reached for his instruments and prepared to stitch the wound closed. He wished Jackson was there, but knew the man had his hands full with Chris and Vin.

"You did a good job of cleaning this."

"Thanks, Doc," Wilmington said and watched the steady hand as it continued to work. He heard a soft moan, and reached down to clasp Inez's left hand in his own. Immediately she squeezed and he placed his chin on top of her head as she relaxed against him. It didn't take long for Phillips to complete his task and Buck held her while the doctor bandaged the wound and placed her arm in a sling.

"She'll be fine as long as she takes it easy," Phillips assured him, grabbing his kit from the table. "Now, I don't see anyone else in need of immediate attention so I'm going to go check on Larabee. Where is Jackson's clinic?"

"I'll take you there," Buck offered and looked down at the sleeping woman. He sighed tiredly before easing out from behind her and gently placing her on the pillow. He motioned for Dunne and told him to keep an eye on Inez until he got back.

"What if that bunch causes trouble?" Wilson asked.

"Shoot first and ask questions later," Wilmington answered. H e looked around and spotted Yosemite and Watson guarding several of the prisoners who had yet to be taken to the jail. "Doc, if it's all right with you I'd like to get the prisoners locked up…none of them seems in dangers of dying…yet."

"Go right ahead…Captain Wallace would probably give you several men to help out until Judge Travis gets here," Phillips said.

"JD, I'm going to speak with Captain Wallace…just keep this bunch quiet until his men take them off you hands."

"Hell, Buck, I'll just do like you said if they try anything," Dunne said with a lopsided grin.

Buck nodded, looked at Inez who was peacefully sleeping and suddenly realized the sun had come up. He walked beside the doctor and made his way toward the gathered officers near the jail. "Doc, the clinic is above the livery," Wilmington explained and watched the man walk in the direction he'd pointed out.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Nathan looked up as the door opened, frowning at the man who stepped inside. "Who…"

"Jonathon Phillips…are you Nathan Jackson?"

"Yes, Sir…"

"Don't call me sir…because from what I've heard about you from the people of this town, I'm talking to a colleague and would be glad to work alongside you. Call me Jon and if it's okay I'll call you Nathan," the doctor advised and held out his hand.

"Thanks, Jon," the healer said and shook the offered hand.

"So…tell me what we're dealing with," Phillips said looking at the two injured men.

"Vin took a bullet in the shoulder a couple of days ago. I took it out and cleaned and stitched the wound, but this mess with Royal and James had him moving around more'n he should and he busted a couple of them."

"Any fever or signs of infection?"

"A slight fever, but there's no discharge from the wound," Jackson answered. "I'd still like ya ta take a look at him."

"I will…is this Larabee?" Phillips asked of the second patient.

"Yes…he's been…"

"Na…Nathan?"

"Right here, Chris," Jackson told him. "How do you feel?"

"Hot…sick…side hurts," Larabee answered, eyes opened to half mast. He looked at the figure standing behind the healer, distrust shining in his eyes.

"Put the glare away, Chris, this is Jonathon Phillips. He came in with the army and he's a doctor. He's going to take a look at you and Vin and make sure I didn't miss anything…"

"Nathan, that's not why I'm here. I came at your request and if the stories I've heard about you are correct then there's probably not much for me to do," Phillips corrected.

"Trust y…you, Nate," the blond said, wincing as Phillips eased the bandage from the wound in his side. His eyes glazed over with pain as the newcomer probed the area and he silently cursed Royal and James all over again. He looked at Nathan when Phillips asked how long it had been since Jackson had given him some morphine.

"Not since before the attack last night," Jackson answered. "I was going to give him some laudanum, but he's as stubborn as they come and wanted to know about the town first."

"Well, the town's fine and except for a couple of minor injuries your people came out rather well. The prisoners are all residing in your jail with Captain Wallace's men helping out, so I would say it's time for you to rest and let yourself heal…"

"And give us some peace and quiet," Jackson teased.

"Amen to that," Sanchez offered upon entering the clinic.

"You b…boys should take it o…on the road," Larabee snapped, watching as Phillips took a syringe and vial from his bag. "I don't…"

"Yes, you do," Phillips told him as Jackson tapped at the blond's left forearm searching for a viable vein. "Nathan and I are going to clean this up and I'd rather you are comfortable…"

"Hell, then give me some whiskey…"

"Not a chance…whiskey will just make you an angry drunk, Larabee," Jackson said with a slight grin that told the blond he was only half joking.

Chris sighed heavily and closed his eyes as Phillips slipped the needle into his arm and injected the medication. It didn't take long for the drug to take effect and he surrendered to the euphoria that meant a diminishing of the pain spreading throughout his body.

"What d you want me to do, Jon?" Jackson asked.

"We'll need hot water, carbolic, and coffee," the doctor answered.

"I've got the carbolic and hot water…Josiah, could you go see if Inez…damn I forgot she was hurt. How is she, Jon?"

"She was sleeping when I left and should be fine as long as she takes it easy and keeps the wound clean," Phillips explained. "Nathan, you've done a good job with this…especially when a bullet in this area can cause so much damage…not to mention having to dig around in there."

"That's something I can't take credit for," Jackson told him, unaware that Wilmington was standing just outside the door. "Buck took the bullet out…"

"It's hard enough when a man knows what he's doing…could easily kill a man if…"

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Wilmington felt sick to his stomach as he stood listening to the words exchanged by the two men, but all he heard was Phillips damning words. He turned away and bounded down the stairs, barely reaching the corner as his stomach heaved and his body shook with tremors. He sank to his knees, eyes brimming with unshed tears as he tried to get the picture of Chris' blood on his hands out of his head.

"God, Chris, I'm sorry…I fucked up…even got Inez shot….God help me I'm so sorry…"

Deep down, Buck understood he'd done everything he could for Chris, but coupled with the guilt of seeing Inez shot, Wilmington could no longer hold it together and looked for solace elsewhere. He stood, ignoring the acidic burning in his throat and made his way toward the saloon, silently ignoring anyone who spoke to him in his haste to find something to ease his burden. He shoved the batwing doors open and aimed for the bar; latching onto the bottle he'd placed there after tending to Inez Recillos.

Buck Wilmington proceeded to get so drunk nothing would bother him again.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Standing in Death's Shadow----12

Jonathon Phillips finished tending to Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner and stood up to stretch his body in order to get rid of the aches and pains. He turned to look at the man who'd helped him and silently cursed the prejudices that kept Nathan Jackson from getting the license he so deserved. The man was a natural and had more talent than half the men who went through medical training and pretended the document they received made them doctors. It took a lot more than just a paper to make a man a doctor, and Nathan seemed to thrive on compassion and hands on knowledge.

"Coffee?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, please," Phillips answered and accepted a cup of strong black coffee. "Well, Nathan, I must tell you'd be an asset to any hospital…good doctors are hard to find."

"Thanks, Jon, but I keep tellin' people there ain't no darkie doctors," Jackson said, his voice held a hint of regret that Phillips read easily.

"Maybe not on paper, Nathan, but you're a doctor here," Phillips said and pointed to the man's chest. "Even more importantly you're a doctor to every man, woman, and child who's ever had the misfortune of being injured or sick. A paper is just that…a piece of paper anyone could print up or tear up for that matter, Dr. Jackson."

"He's right, Brother," Sanchez said from the open doorway. He'd heard Phillips' speech and knew the man respected Jackson's abilities.

"Thanks…just sometimes it feels like I don't know enough."

"Well, Nathan, that's something we all feel whether we're doctors or ranchers or anything else for that matter. Life is a learning experience and if we stop learning we stop living," Phillips explained.

"Makes sense," Jackson agreed with a slight smile.

"Well, since these two seem to be in good hands I'm going to go back to the hotel, check those patients and then see about the prisoners."

"Hold on a minute, Jon," Jackson said. "Josiah, can you stay with Chris and Vin?"

"Of course," Sanchez said and watched the two men leave. He smiled as Tanner sat up the minute Jackson and Phillips left the clinic. "How are you feeling, Vin?"

"Better now that them two left. Jesus, he's worse than Nate," the Texan grumbled and made to remove the sling.

"You take that off and I'll call them both back," the ex-preacher warned.

"Traitor," Tanner said, making his way toward the door.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yeah…"

"Vin, tell me what you need and I'll get it."

"Josiah, there are some things a man just has to do for himself," the sharpshooter said.

"I'm sure there is and I'll simply step outside the door while you take care of business," Sanchez said with a grin and pointed to the commode.

"I can…"

"Fall on your face if you attempt to make it outside," Sanchez warned. "Now, I could let you do that, but then I'd have to face the wrath of Nathan Jackson and even I shudder at the thought of Phillips backing him up. So, like I said I'll be right outside the door."

"Shit!" the Texan cursed as the door closed, turning toward the other bed as a soft chuckle sounded. "What the hell's so funny, Larabee?"

"You never could do anything without grumbling, Vin," Larabee said and opened his eyes to look at the other man.

"And yer tellin' me yer gonna be quiet and take it when Nate hands ya one of them…"

"Actually, Vin, I was kind of hoping you'd help me out of this bed…maybe we could find a way past Josiah and get…"

"Fergit it, Larabee, Nate's gonna be pissed at me as it is without bringin' his angry ass down on me fer helpin' ya outta that damn bed! Why the hell didn't'cha say somethin' when they was here?"

"You boys need some help in there?" Sanchez asked.

"No…"

"Yeah, Chris needs ta take care of his business," Tanner said and received a glare that would have felled a normal man, but the effect was lost on the Texan.

"Chris, don't go trying to get up on your own," Sanchez warned and hurried to grab what the injured blond would need. "Can you handle it from here on your own or…"

"Say it, Josiah, and I swear I'll shoot you first and Tanner right after!" Larabee grumbled and waited for the two men to leave. It took nearly fifteen minutes and a string of curses that would have made the devil proud, before Chris managed to get back under the covers and tell them he was done.

"Chris, ya look like hell," Tanner said as Sanchez left.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately? You won't win any beauty contests either," Larabee said, coughing as he held his arm tight against his side.

"Want some water?"

"Any whiskey?"

"Are ya kiddin'? If there is Nate's hidin' it," the Texan said sympathetically and handed Larabee a cup of water.

Chris took several sips and lay back on the pillow before speaking. "I know I've probably asked this before, but is everyone okay?"

"There were a couple of injuries, but mostly it was Royal and James'."

"Who?"

"Inez took one in the arm, but the doc says she's gonna be fine," Tanner assured him.

"Damn…did anyone go out to the Wells' place to let them know Royal and James are dead?"

"Dunno…maybe Josiah knows…"

"Josiah knows what?" Sanchez asked upon returning to the clinic.

"Did anyone go out ta Miss Nettie's place?" Tanner asked.

"JD headed out there right after the army stepped in to help with the prisoners," Sanchez assured both men. "Chris, Nate said to tell you he'll bring you some broth and…"

"He's all heart," Larabee grumbled and closed his eyes as sleep beckoned once more.

"Did he say anythin' about me gettin' some real food?" Tanner asked.

"Not a thing…but my guess is he'll bring you something at the same time," Sanchez told them.

"Just hope it's somethin' with a little meat in it," the Texan said and moved back to the cot. He knew Sanchez was there and he could let go for a while, but his gaze wondered to the injured blond and he hoped Larabee continued to fight. It had been good to see him awake and glaring, but it didn't last long enough to relieve Tanner's fears. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, but never really gave in to his body's need for rest.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Buck had given up the glass long ago and now simply drank from the bottle. Others had come and gone, taking a drink, while steering clear of the disheveled man seated at the table toward the back of the saloon. Buck lifted the bottle and took another long swallow, and looked up as the doors were pushed open and Nathan stepped inside. The healer looked toward the bar, before striding toward him and pulling out a chair.

"We were wonderin' where you got to," Jackson said, frowning when he spotted the nearly empty bottle in Wilmington's left hand.

"Been here for a spell, Nate, want a drink…oops, sorry, need to get a new bottle," the rogue's voice was slurred, but Jackson did not miss the look of pain that washed across his face.

"Buck, how much have you had?"

"Not near enough," Wilmington said, stumbling toward the bar. He chuckled, the sound harsh and drunken as he held tight to the bar in order to stay on his feet. He knocked a couple of dirty glasses off the bar, staring at them until they rolled across the floor and stopped at Nate's feet. "Guess you got your own glass…"

"What the hell's the matter with you, Buck?"

"Not a damn thing, Nate…'cept my bottle's empty," the ladies' man mumbled and again tried to grab a new one.

"Yeah, well…let's keep it that way," Jackson said and reached for the bottle Wilmington had tried to grab.

"Hey, give that back!"

"No, now I don't know what the hell got into you, but there's people in this town that need help and with Chris and Vin down they'll be lookin' to the rest of us…"

"I ain't no use to no one!"

"Not like this you're not, but some strong coffee and some time to sleep it off and you'll be good as new," Jackson tried.

"Gimme the damn bottle, Nate!"

"No!" Jackson stated and barely ducked under the free swinging arm of his friend. "Jesus, Buck, give it up!"

"Problems, Gentlemen?" Wallace asked upon stepping inside.

"No…"

"Yes, would you send one of your men to get Josiah Sanchez…he's at the clinic," Jackson said and heard the captain give orders to one of his men.

"Nate, gimme that!" the rogue slurred and glared at the healer. He reached for the bottle, but Jackson moved it out of his reach and Buck shoved him hard against the bar.

Nathan reacted instinctively and shoved back, watching as the inebriated man stumbled backward until his legs struck a chair. Wilmington, already unsteady on his feet could not stop his momentum and struck the floor with a resounding thump and lay still. "Buck…oh God," Jackson whispered and knelt beside his friend. He heard Wallace moving toward him even as his hands explored Wilmington's neck and head. His fingers came away sticky with blood and Nate was grateful for the Army captain's help.

"What do you need me to do, Dr. Jackson?" Wallace asked.

"I ain't no doctor, but we need ta get him up to the clinic," Jackson said, looking up as Sanchez came through the door. "Josiah, give us a hand here."

"What happened?" the ex-preacher asked, helping Wallace get the unconscious man to his feet and supporting him through the doors.

"I pushed him," Jackson replied simply.

The smell of whiskey and sweat told the older man all he needed to know. He knew Jackson would feel guilty about Wilmington being hurt, but there was nothing he could do about that for now. He helped support Wilmington over to the hotel and settled him onto one of the beds that had recently been vacated by one of the prisoners who was now back in the jail.

"Put him on his side so I can get a look at his head," Jackson ordered and reached for the basin of water someone placed beside him. He washed away the blood and caught sight of the nasty gash just behind Wilmington's left ear. "Dammit!"

"Easy, Brother, you're always telling us we've got hard heads so this should be easy for Buck to deal with," Sanchez offered.

"Is something wrong with Buck, Senor?"

"Inez, you should be lying down," Jackson ordered.

"I will…but tell me what happened?"

"Buck took a fall and hit his head, Inez…Nathan's got him," Sanchez explained, and moved to settle her back on the bed.

"He's okay?"

"He will be," the ex-preacher vowed. "Buck's got a hard head…"

"Si, that he does," Inez agreed and turned her head to watch Jackson work on the injured man. She noted how tenderly he shaved the hair around the wound and wondered what Buck would say when he realized he had a bald spot. She had deep feeling for Wilmington, but did not want him to change just for her. Closing her eyes she thought about the selfless act he'd done in putting his life on the line to save her from returning to Mexico_. 'Please, Buck, open your eyes and show me you're okay,'_ she thought, but there was no movement from the injured rogue.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

JD rode into Nettie's farm and was nearly mobbed by the people who'd taken refuge there. HE dismounted, hugged Casey and then turned to face everyone. "Royal and James are dead and the army arrived to take care of the prisoners until Judge Travis arrives. You can all go home whenever you're ready."

"It's over?" Casey asked hopefully.

"Yes, it is, Casey," Dunne answered. "The army got there just as everything came to a head…once that happened Royal and James didn't stand a chance."

"Was anyone hurt?" Nettie asked.

"James got hold of Chris…roughed him up a bit, but Nathan says he'll be okay. Vin's grumbling about being hungry and not needing to stay in the clinic. Inez took a bullet to her arm, but the army doctor says she'll be fine," JD explained and accepted a cup of water from Martha Wilson.

"It sounds like Nate's got his hands full," Martha observed.

"With Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner in the clinic I feel sorry for Nathan Jackson," Nettie said and turned to go into the house. "JD, hitch up the horses to the wagon and get ready to head back to town. Casey, throw a few things into a bag and lets go help out where we can."

"Yes, Aunt Nettie," Casey said and hurried inside.

"Children, get your stuff and put it in the wagon," Gloria Potter ordered.

"We goin' home, Ma?"

"Yes, we are," the robust woman answered and hurried to help Nettie gather the things she'd need. The rest of the townspeople began gathering their belongings for the trek back to Four Corners.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Nathan looked around the hotel lobby and realized most of the injured had either been taken to the jail or been told they could return to their homes. There were only two people left and both were unconscious for now. Inez had succumbed to the combination of blood loss and medication once she'd been given some juice and broth. Her wound wasn't showing any signs of infection and he knew the reason for that was Buck's quick thinking after she'd been shot.

The second patient was finally showing signs of waking and Nathan was sympathetic up to a point. Wilmington would have one hell of a headache and he was partially to blame, but the whiskey would account for a lot of it, with the added discomfort of nausea and a sour breath. He moved back to check on Buck and waited for the blue eyes to open and focus on him.

"Jesus, Nate, bad enough when there's only one of you," Wilmington grumbled, and tried to sit up. The effect was instantaneous and he clutched his stomach as sour bile rose up in his throat and acid burned through his gut. A basin appeared in front of him and his stomach gave up its contents until only dry heaves remained.

"Let that be a lesson to ya. Now lie down and be real quiet and maybe that hard head of yours won't explode," Jackson warned.

"What hap…happened?" Wilmington asked, holding his head with both hands.

"You decided to drink a bottle of whiskey on and empty stomach with very little sleep and it just caught up with you big time. I found you goin' for a second bottle…and let's just say I pushed you and you hit the floor…hard! It's a damn good thing ya got a hard head," Jackson snapped.

"Jesus, Nate, turn the sound down will you?"

"I'm not talking loud, Buck, that's yer hard head tellin' you it don't like what you've been doin' to it…"

"I thought I had you to thank for the headache?"

"Maybe a little, but the blame is in the bottle you emptied. Now why don't you close your eyes so the rest of us can have some peace and quiet fer a spell?"

"You're all heart," Wilmington said, moaning as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He allowed the beckoning darkness to engulf him and didn't see the look of concern that washed over the healer's face.

"Nathan, how is he?" Sanchez asked upon rejoining the former slave.

"He's got a headache…probably a mixture of a hangover and the head injury," Jackson answered.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Nathan. Buck's temper was partly to blame…the rest was the result of a full bottle of whiskey."

"I know, but I should have…"

"Let him keep right on drinking? What good would that have done, My Friend, except give us a rowdy drunken Buck and that would be ugly…and we both know what Buck says about ugly," Sanchez said with a slight grin. "Look, Nathan, there's enough guilt going around so don't go adding to it. Let's get everyone back on their feet and then drum it into their heads that the guilty parties in all of this are Royal and James and since they're both dead we can bury the guilt with them."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jackson agreed. "Damn."

"What's wrong?" Sanchez asked worriedly.

"I was supposed to bring Chris and Vin somethin' ta eat."

"You get some rest and I'll take care of Chris and Vin," the older man ordered. "That cot's empty and I believe it has your name on it."

"I got too much to do…"

"It can wait, Nathan. The injured are all taken care of and now it's time for the healthy to take some time for themselves. Dr. Phillips is bedded down and the army is still helping out with the prisoners."

"Then who's watching the two hardheads at my place?"

"Ezra is with them and if either man tries anything he'll just talk them to sleep," Sanchez offered with a slight grin. "Now, you get your head down before I pull one of your own tricks on you."

"All right…just for a few minutes," Jackson said and lay down on the empty cot. He could feel Sanchez watching him and relaxed in the comfort of knowing the others would be well taken care of.

"Sleep well, My Friend, you've earned it," Sanchez said softly and nodded to Virgil Watson who was helping out with the injured.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Standing in Death's Shadow----13

Vin sat on the landing, watching the activity below as the army continued to help out with the town. A slight breeze did little to stifle the blistering heat of late afternoon, but at least tonight there was no threat of an impending attack. Maria was inside with Chris Larabee who slept under the influence of a shot of morphine. A sound toward the end of town caught his attention and he adjusted the sling supporting his arm, before standing and watching the newcomer's arrival.

Tanner recognized them immediately and was glad to see everyone safe and sound. Nettie Wells drove her wagon, fully loaded with women and children, but she glanced his way before pulling to a stop below the stairs. He heard footsteps and smiled when the older woman stepped onto the landing.

"Well, Mr. Tanner, I must say you look better than the last time I saw you," Nettie said, hugging the younger man affectionately.

"Yer sure a sight fer sore eyes, Ma'am," Tanner told her. "Everyone okay?"

"Everyone's fine…although the next time I think Mr. Conklin can make other arrangements," Nettie said.

"He give ya any trouble?"

"Nothin' I couldn't take care of," Wells assured him.

"What was he complainin' 'bout this time?"

"Everythin', but he saw reason when Martha and I told him ta go find his own supper," Nettie chuckled softly at the look on Tanner's face.

"Yer a woman after my own heart," the Texan told her.

"If I was maybe twenty years younger I'd claim it as my own," she assured him with a slight smile. "Now, JD told us everythin' was under control so we figured you boys could use some help."

"Thanks, Miss Nettie, that means more'n ya'll ever know," Tanner assured her.

"How is Mr. Larabee?"

"He was roughed up a bit, but Nate says he's doin' better. Maria's lookin' after him…makin' sure he stays put," the sharpshooter told her.

"Good, where is Mr. Jackson?"

"Josiah made him get some rest over at the hotel. The army brought a doctor with them, but Nate's still wearin' himself out."

"That's not unusual…it's somethin' you lot have in common," Nettie said. "Now I'm gonna help the ladies fix up somethin' for you boys to eat."

"Somethin' with substance?"

"Well, I was gonna use meat, but if I can find this substance I'll make somethin' just for you," Nettie said, chuckling softly at the look on the younger man's face. "I'm pulling your leg, Mr. Tanner…"

"I knowed that," the Texan said, hugging her once more before she hurried down the stairs. He sat back; wondering when the town had become home to him, and knew it was when Nettie and the rest of the town accepted him for who he was. Four Corners was fast becoming a place where people migrated to and there seemed to be more homesteaders moving into the area each week. Progress, Mary Travis called it, and Vin knew sooner or later he would have to choose whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life here or move on. For now he contented himself with watching over the town.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Buck woke up feeling as if his head had exploded and his gut was on fire. He had no real concept of how much time had passed since the last time he'd been awake, but the sour taste in his mouth reminded him he'd drank too much and that was partly to blame for the headache and fire in his belly. He sat up and felt someone watching him, smiling as he looked across at the woman holding a glass of water out to him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. How do you feel?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Inez?"

"Perhaps, but I doubt that I look anywhere near as badly as you do."

"No…no I don't expect you do," Wilmington agreed. "I'm okay, Inez."

"Oh really? Then why do you look like a lost puppy? Look, Senor, I know you think you are to blame for what happened to Senor Chris and now you feel like it's your fault I was shot. You're wrong you know? It is not your fault…and I won't let you think it is," Recillos told him.

"There's not much you can do when the evidence is right in front of me, Inez," Wilmington said, standing and striding purposefully out the door while ignoring Inez's plea for him to stop and listen to her. Buck made his way toward the livery intent on riding out before anyone else tried to assuage his guilt, but a voice from the landing stopped him.

"Hey, Buck, I was just coming to find you. Chris wants to see you," Dunne explained. He'd seen Buck down before, but never had the man looked so crestfallen. He knew without asking that Buck was shouldering more guilt than he had a right to and had spoken to Larabee about the reasons for it. Chris had sent him to fetch the ladies' man and he'd spotted him coming toward the livery, a look of raw pain on his face.

"Tell him I left town…"

"No way, Buck, you tell him yourself!" Dunne ordered, relieved when the rogue hurried up the stairs.

"Thanks, Kid," Wilmington said, stepping past the younger man and entering to find Larabee propped up on several pillows. The blond hair was damp with sweat and plastered to the pale forehead, but it was the eyes that caught Buck's attention. There was something in the sea-green orbs that floored him and Wilmington stumbled toward the bed before sitting in the chair someone conveniently left there.

"You look like shit, Buck."

"Now you know that just ain't pos…possible," Wilmington stammered.

"Thanks, Pard, I owe you…"

"For what? Nearly killing you by tearing up your insides?"

"No, for being enough of a friend to make sure I stayed alive until help arrived. I nearly died, Buck…I would have if you hadn't cared enough to get the bullet out," Larabee said.

"I could have killed you…Nathan and Phillips said…"

"Said what, Buck?"

"They said I could have killed you because I didn't know what I was doing…"

"No, they said you saved my life by getting the bullet out when you did," Larabee corrected.

"I heard them…heard them talking…"

"Then you didn't hear right, Buck," the blond vowed. "I know it took a lot out of you to go digging for that bullet, but I trusted you to do what you had to do in order to save my life. Hell, Buck, it took guts to do that and I doubt there's many who could honestly say they'd be willing to take out a bullet no matter what the circumstances."

"Chris…"

"No, Buck, don't say it…just take what I'm saying as it's meant to be taken. Thank you, My Friend, you've saved my life on more than one occasion."

"Chris I…"

"Buck, don't make me get out of this bed because I really don't want to have to explain to Nathan and Dr. Phillips why they have to pick me up off the floor again," Larabee grumbled.

"Sorry…thanks, Chris," Wilmington said and stood up to leave.

"Not done yet, Stud," the blond said, hoping the light teasing would ease some of the lines of tension.

"Sorry…are you okay?"

"No, but I will be," Larabee told him. "Now, how is Inez?"

"She's…she's going to be okay."

"I hear you saved her life too."

"No, Chris, I nearly got her killed. I should have insisted she leave with the others."

"Buck, tell me something…and I want the truth."

"I'll try," Wilmington said and reluctantly sat back down.

"What was it that drew you to Inez…and please don't tell me it was her looks or her body, because as much as you worship the female of the species you don't go for the ones who are afraid to break a nail if they have to wash a dish," Larabee warned.

"You know me too well, Chris," Wilmington told him.

"Still doesn't answer my question…what drew you to Inez? Why did you go above and beyond to protect her?"

"I don't know, Chris, I mean she's beautiful and God only knows she's a spitfire and… well," Wilmington grew silent for several seconds and then smiled as he spoke. "I think maybe it was that she saw through my bullshit…"

"And saw you for the man you really are," Larabee said with a slight smile.

"Yeah…guess that's part of it anyway. She's like no other woman I've ever met and at first I thought she was just playing hard to get like some of the ladies do, but she wasn't playing, Chris. I think Inez is…well, she's beautiful and smart and strong. She's got this inner strength about her that I've only seen a couple of times. Did you know she offered to go back with that fancy Don fella so he'd back down on the sword fight?"

"She did that because she didn't want to see you hurt…not because she didn't think you didn't have a chance against him…although for a few minutes there I thought you were in over your head."

"You and me both…I don't know if it was pure luck or that the 'Big Guy' was watching out for me," Wilmington told him.

"Probably a bit of both…I'd say He's been looking out for the lot of us. I mean what were the odds of Maria overhearing Royal and James and then riding here to warn us?"

"That's something you'd have to take up with Ezra," the rogue said. "He's the man who gives the odds."

Chris watched his friend; looking for some sign that the other man was no longer holding onto the guilt that had festered over the last week since this whole mess had begun. There were dark circles around the man's eyes, a sure sign that he wasn't sleeping very well, but Chris thought he saw a glimmer of hope in the blue orbs staring back at him. "Buck…"

"Chris, I'm not gonna say I don't feel partially responsible for what happened, but I know it comes with the territory. We chose to stay in Four Corners and protect the town from the likes of Royal, James, and the Lawrence brothers and we do a damn good job of it…"

"Damn straight we do…"

"But there are times when it feels like we're standing in death's shadow and he's gunning for us."

"I know what you mean, but as long as you or Vin or one of the others is around I know death's shadow isn't strong enough to defeat…"

"The Magnificent Seven," Wilmington finished with a grin and could feel the tension easing with those simple words. "You know I think Jock Steel could do a whole story on me…"

"Shut the hell up, Buck!" Larabee groused, yet the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile as he sank back against the pillows and closed his eyes. "Thanks, Buck…I owe you."

"Anytime, Pard, any time," Wilmington said, standing and walking quietly out the door. He thought about the reasons he stayed in Four Corners and knew Chris Larabee was one of them…their friendship had stood the test of time and that was something a man had to hold close to his heart.

"Hi, Buck…"

"Well howdy, Blossom, when did you get back in town?" Wilmington said, a roguish gleam in his eyes as he linked arms with her and walked toward her room.

**M7M7M7M7M7M7M7M7 **

Chris opened his eyes and shifted on the bed, amazed that the pain was at least bearable now. It had been a week since Royal and James had tried to destroy the town and the army would be leaving in a couple of days. Travis had called in several favors and the army would be taking the prisoners with them. Pushing back the blankets, Larabee eased his legs over the side and sat up, closing his eyes for several seconds until the room righted itself once more. His body was telling him he needed to hurry and he stood up, searching for the commode.

"I must say you cut a fine figure, Mr. Larabee." Nettie smiled when the blond sat back down and quickly covered himself with a blanket. She turned to see the smile on Vin Tanner's face and knew he was amused by Larabee's reaction to her presence.

"Could warn a man," Larabee said, staring pointedly at the Texan.

"More fun watchin' ya," the sharpshooter told him.

"I assure you I've seen it all before, Mr. Larabee," Nettie teased.

"I owe you, Tanner."

"Is there somethin' I can get for you, Mr. Larabee?"

"Just need a little privacy," the blond said and heard the soft laughter from the other man. "And my gun," he added.

"I'll go see if Gloria has lunch ready. I won't be long."

Chris waited until she left the clinic and again tried to stand, but sat back down again as the door opened and Jackson entered.

"Mrs. Wells said you might need my help," the healer said.

"Jesus, it's hard getting a moments peace," Larabee grumbled.

"I agree, but maybe once I send you and Vin back to your rooms I might just get some real sleep for a change," Jackson said, smiling inwardly at the look that came over Larabee's face. Phillips was leaving with the army, but he'd agreed with Jackson that Larabee was on the mend and it was time to lengthen the leash, but not quite time to release him altogether.

"I can get out of here?" Larabee asked.

"As soon as I take a look at that side and shoulder," Jackson said and turned to the Texan. "Vin, the others are waiting in the saloon…tell them Chris and me are on our way."

"Whiskey…"

"Now I didn't quite say that," Jackson stated.

"Just one, Nate, what can it hurt?"

"Me," Jackson answered and chuckled softly. "One whiskey, Chris, but not before you eat somethin' solid."

"Depends on who's cooking. I've had enough of army meals," Larabee griped and knew the Texan was in full agreement.

"Actually, Nettie Wells and Gloria Potter have been helping Inez at the saloon."

"How is Inez?" Larabee asked,

"Better, but she still has to take it easy with her arm. Jon says she needs to take things slow, but he wants her using it to make sure she doesn't lose the strength she has," Jackson explained. "Buck's been keepin' her company."

"Oh hell, that can't be good," Larabee said.

"Oh, I don't know. That knock on the head seemed to have had an effect on Buck," the healer told him as he finished checking Larabee's wounds, pleased with the way they were healing. "Enough about Buck…what were you trying to do when I came in?"

"I need to…take care of business," Larabee answered.

"All right…me and Vin are gonna wait for ya outside…just holler if ya need some help," Jackson ordered.

"Remind me I owe you both a bullet," Larabee grumbled and waited until they left. He looked around and found his clothes draped over the back of a chair. He did what he had to do and then slowly dressed, leaving his shirt unbuttoned until he stepped out onto the landing. His body ached with the movement, reminding him of his injuries, but it felt good to be up on his own two feet. He allowed Jackson to help him fix his shirt and slowly made his way down the stairs and over to the saloon. Once inside he smiled at the familiar sight that greeted him and made his way toward the table at the back where the other four men were already seated.

"Hey, Stud, good to see you out of bed," Wilmington said,

"I could say the same to you," Larabee told him, glad to see the light back in the rogue's eyes. He'd been worried about the guilt Wilmington seemed to be harboring and hoped their talk had solidified Wilmington's belief in his abilities. He owed Buck his life, and that was something he'd never be able to repay.

"Chris, you got a wire from Judge Travis today," Dunne said and handed Larabee the missive, watching him closely as he silently read the words.

"Is everythin' okay, Cowboy?" Tanner asked.

"Everything's fine, Vin, but it seems drinks are on me and Buck," Larabee said.

"Chris, I don't have two nickels to rub together right now," Wilmington said truthfully.

"Wrong, Buck," Larabee said, a Cheshire grin on his face. "It seems the Lawrence brothers were worth a lot more dead than alive."

"Who…what?" the rogue asked, reaching for the paper his friend held out to him. He lifted his head and stared at Larabee in disbelief. "Holy shit, Chris, you're a lucky…"

"No, Buck, we're lucky. If it wasn't for you I'd be dead right now. You deserve half of the reward," Larabee told him.

"It was your bullets that killed them, Chris."

"Money wouldn't do me any good if I'd died, Buck. I owe you my life ten times over and it seems like every time I'm standing in death's shadow you're there to haul my ass back," Larabee said and did something he rarely did. He stood up, walked around the table and allowed the other man to embrace him before sitting down again.

"Folk's'll talk, Chris."

"Let them…thank you for always being there, Buck Wilmington," Larabee said and realized death's shadow would always hang over their heads, but as long as they watched out for each other it couldn't win. "To friends…may we always have them…and be able to recognize when they become brothers."

"Amen to that, Brother, amen to that," Sanchez said and the clink of glasses signaled they were ready to face the future, whole and strong in their combined friendship. Four Corners had survived, and so had 'The Magnificent Seven'.

THE END!!!!!!!!!

TBC


End file.
